Eye of the Beholder rewrite: Of Sand and Sea
by caper-dj
Summary: Captain Davy Jones is incapable of love, but his past is coming back to haunt him. How can a young woman vex and perplex him after all these years? Please see author's note for information on rewrite. Romance, some erotica. Semi-canon. Main characters: Davy Jones, Liliana, Flying Dutchman crew. Artwork (c) caper-dj
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story is a rewrite of the original "Eye of the Beholder" which I began writing back in 2006. This new version will be shorter and more dramatic than the first. It will be broken into two parts._

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><p><span>Eye of the Beholder: Of Sand and Sea. Part one.<span>

_Nigh, it cannot be._

The captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, the most feared vessel in all the world's oceans, stares down at a lifeless form floating on a piece of driftwood. A young woman lay next to the edge, any slight bump could send her plunging to the blackened depths.

He looks away as if he shouldn't care. His scrutinizing eyes scan the darkness of his ship, not a movement to detect. Only a sliver of moon is available for light. The stars above are dulled by a thin blanket of clouds. The captain gazes back down at the woman in the water. In the distance, a gurgled roar is followed by the dull cracking of wood. Two massive pillars rise from the ocean and claim the shadowy remains of a ship. The same ship the captain had hoped would contain more souls to feed his insatiable hunger. But, alas, here floats this surprise.

Surely, it cannot be...

A wave rushes over the driftwood and trickles down her face. He squints and sees the darkness of blood mixing with water. She is doomed, he mutters angrily to himself. Another victim of a marine accident, just like the rest. I will not be bothered with harvesting her soul. Wretched creatures, women are.

A lone crewman steps up from behind and announces that the leviathan will soon complete its attack on the hapless vessel. The captain nods and with an irascible tone commands that all the crew must go aboard this night and that he will not be accompanying them. Without questioning his superior's motives, the crewman slinks off to contemplate why all must leave for this duty. There is likely to be no survivors for this wreck.

His frigid blue eyes snap back down towards the shadowed water beneath the Dutchman. Her hand falls from her chest and splashes heavily into the water.

No...

The last of his crew departs and he is left alone in the bitter darkness. He contemplates the last time he dealt with a woman and feels a burning vexation swell within him. As the monstrous kraken pulls its body back into the depths, more waves head towards the drifting refuge. It bobs precariously, causing her limp body to shift ever closer towards the edge. One more jolt and she will surely perish.

Without thought, he races over to the Jacob's ladder and casts it down the side. He struggles to descend, his left arm useless here and his right leg reduced to a pathetic peg. His temper takes a hold of him as he realizes what a foolish thing he is doing for this girl. Grumbling profanities, he slowly makes his way toward her. Damned woman!

Half expecting to sink her himself by the time he reaches the end of the ladder, he finds himself staring hopelessly at her instead. So small and helpless. Like a wee bird that has lost her wings. Looking back at his left arm, he realizes that he cannot grasp the ladder to hold on. Flexing the arm around a rung, he maintains a strong hold as he leans toward the girl.

Carefully, he reaches down with his good hand and slides his fingers under her back. He stares in calm amazement at her small face, the vulnerability of her exposed neck and the gentle roundness of her breasts under her corset. Her head sinks back as he lifts her body into the safety of his arm. Clutching her to his side, he then wonders how the hell he will now get back up! He tosses her inanimate body over his shoulder and curses to himself, ye had better be worth all this trouble!

He places her on the floor of his cabin once inside. This won't do. I cannot leave her in the middle of the floor! If anything, I'll only end up tripping over the lass and booting her halfway to hell!

Her chest rises softly, her presence aboard the Dutchman bringing energy back into her body. He leans over her stillness. What an exquisite creature, he thinks to himself. Not at all like the morbid ruins of the female form I've become accustomed to for centuries now. Unconsciously, he reaches out to sweep away a lock of tousled hair that has fallen into her face. This feminine being has him perplexed and nothing shall ruin his view of her. He instantly pulls back when she sighs with the pleasure of receiving air to her lungs again.

Too close.

Again he finds himself wondering why he is fussing over this creature as he drags a dusty hay-filled mattress out of the corner shadows. He drops it with disgust and then peers down at her again. A slight smile curves the corners of her lips. He stares at their plumpness and remembers the warmth of a woman's kiss, the taste of her sweet tongue playing with woman! What are ye smiling about? He checks himself harshly. There is nothing to be smiling about here!

Once again, he lifts her fragile body and places her safely on the mattress. He makes a mental note of all the injuries on her being. A large gash to her forehead has matted her auburn hair with clotted blood. Her corset is stained from an injury to her torso. He examines the make of her dress, which is now ruined by salt water and blood. The lace and silk of the gown inform him that she is of upper class. Her finger nails are long and her hands are smooth. He scoffs to himself, living on this ship will change all that!

A sudden thought comes to him, something he was taught many years ago. When soaked to the core, one must shed the layers of wet clothing to be able to warm up again. He examines the numerous layers of her sopping gown with his eyes and swallows hard. She will revive faster if I do, he contemplates to himself. His head falls to his hand as he watches her breathe, her chest rising and falling softly. Again, she smiles at him behind closed eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear ye were trying to entice me into undressing ye!" He mumbles to her.

How long it has been since he has seen the supple female form! He groans in agony with the thought. She is small, but he is aware of her feminine curves underneath that dress. Choosing to respect her modesty, he stands and searches for a blanket. The only one he finds is a woolen one, made from the coarse fibers of the Scottish black-faced sheep. It will have to do, she needs warmth more than softness.

He paces towards the door, eager to leave her behind in his room. There will be no hiding her, but at least he can keep her safe while she is unable to protect herself. He looks back at her shadowed form in the dim candlelight, safely tucked away from the dangers of the world.

What have I got myself into this time?

Small rays of penetrating light force her from a deep slumber. Before she has a chance to open her eyes, a fierce pain stabs at her temple. She reaches up and her fingers probe an open wound on her forehead. She then groans softly as she becomes abruptly aware of the aching pain at her side. Her other hand instinctively reaches down to grasp the area in an attempt to placate it's ravenous fury.

Her eyes finally pry open and it takes a few moments for them to focus on her surroundings. The room is spinning around her, making her nauseous. Taking deep breaths, she closes them to regain her composure. When her stomach finally settles after a few moments, she reopens her eyes to a foreign landscape. The room is dark, the only light coming from a distant low-hanging candelabra. She slowly pushes herself up into a seated position. Another stabbing pain jolts her side, and clutching the wound once more brings slight relief.

"Where am I?" she mumbles to herself. She examines the room carefully, wanting to identify every object surrounding her.

But these items seem so peculiar. This room is filled with large, ornate corals of all colors. Towering tube sponges take turns exuding puffs of steam. The air is thick with the smell of salt water and a musky, humid warmth. The dampness only causes her injured bones to ache further. Her eyes continue to survey the darkened room.

A large globe is off in the corner. A table piled with rolled up papers is on the opposite side of a massive pipe organ, decorated with sea serpents and angels. Behind it, elaborate paned windows stretch from floor to ceiling. They are dirty, smudged and covered in more sea life, allowing very little light to penetrate. There are chests and other pieces of furniture which would define this room as someone's personal living quarters.

Barnacles encrust every surface available. Their fragile bodies magically fan in the air as if they were still underwater. She reaches toward one wisping nearby and it quickly slips within it's protective shell.

"Am I dreaming this?" She shakes her head, which only causes her pain to increase within. "This cannot be real."

Her thoughts then focus on herself. Her heart begins to race when she realizes that she has no idea who she is. She has no name to recall, she does not remember where she is from. She tries in vain to come up with names and places in her life, but none seem to surface. Fear begins to well deep within the pit of her stomach as she realizes she has no past.

"Thought ye'd never wake." A man's smooth voice flows from a darkened corner she failed to examine from her spot on the bed. A shadowed figure becomes visible to her, as if it magically appeared at this very moment.

She swallows hard when he does not expose himself to her. She squints, trying to catch a glimpse of this man. The figure is large and masculine. The outline of a double peaked hat is visible in the candlelight. Her heart races harder when she stumbles upon the realization that this person may have foul intent. "Where am I?"

"Ye are aboard my ship, the Flying Dutchman. What be your name, miss?" The voice shows evidence of a Scottish accent, with the last words being emphasized at the end.

"I do not know..." She mutters quietly. "What am I doing here?"

"I found ye floating adrift at sea. I pulled ye on board. That was five days ago." He explains briskly.

"Thank you, kind sir." She softly states her gratitude while still unsure of his motives.

"There is still the matter of ye not knowing who ye are." He interrupts her thoughts with the exact same topic perplexing her. "Judging by your accent, I would take the venture that ye are from one of the colonies in the east. It's not quite English, not quite French."

She nods as she considers if this is the truth."Why can't I remember?" she whispers to herself.

"Ye had those books with ye when I found ye. Perhaps they will shed a clue to your identity."

She looks towards the shadow and sees him nod towards the table to her left. Reaching over, another stabbing pain takes a hold of her and she inhales through bared teeth. Her desperation to find out her identity forces her to reach for the brown leather satchel of books, ignoring her discomfit.

She swings it over to the bed and two books tumble out. Both have extensive water damage. One appears to be scientific in nature while the other seems to be blank, like a journal. Her fingers slide through the pages of the first book. Each saturated page she turns holds no clue to her identity. It does, however, tell her a little about her history. She notices that she can read with ease, which means she is well educated. If I have a book on science then I must at least be somewhat intelligent, she thinks to herself.

She picks up the second book, full of empty pages. Her eyebrows form a puzzled frown as she examines the inside of the book. Multiple pages have been torn out in many sections of the book. Her heart sinks as these pages may have held the key to her identity.

"Something the matter?" He asks in a soft tone, noticing the distress upon her face. Her eyes lift from the pages and he quickly turns back to face the wall. The tall peaks of his hat create an ethereal dance of shadows and flickering light that are directed down toward his body.

She strains through squinting eyes to see what looks like a heavy beard that flows along his chest and stomach. He must be aged, she thinks to herself, to have a beard of such substantial length. She finds slight relief building within her to finally know something about the man in the shadows.

"There are pages ripped out." She responds to him after a few moments of thought.

A sardonic scoff echoes from the corner. "Sounds suspicious, like someone doesn't want ye to remember who ye are. Or for anyone to identify ye once they found your body."

His macabre reasoning makes her shiver. "Surely this cannot be the reason. Wait..." She announces as her fingers slip over the inside cover. "There is extensive water damage, but there appears to be a first name. Liliana..."

"Then that must be your name, mistress."

She places the book on her lap and gazes over to the corner. "Might you have a name, sir?"

"Jones." He responds quickly.

"That is all?"

"Captain Davy Jones." He continues with a tone of reluctance. He is not willing to share much with this young woman. Not just yet. Maybe not ever.

"The name sounds familiar..."

"Ha! It should!" He laughs heartily. "Are ye done with your questioning, mistress Liliana?"

Again, she peers at the shadows at the illuminated beard. Her eyes widen when it appears to move, writhing and slithering like a serpent. She is unable to stifle her gasp. "What do you want with me?"

"I mean ye no harm. I saved ye, remember?"

"For what purpose?" She mumbles weakly.

"Who the hell knows?" He growls. "I have been wondering that myself. Ye women are bad luck aboard ships. Bad news wherever ye may go..." His voice trails off. He reaches up to caress an old wound on his chest. His eyes close tightly as his palpating fingers cause a sudden rush of unexplained pain. Until now, the wound had been void of sensation since it healed.

"Captain Jones. May...may I see you in the light?" She pauses when she hears the low rumble of his guttural growl. "So I can thank you properly for saving my life."

"Ye can do that just fine with me standing where I am." He insists in an choleric tone.

"Yes, but surely I should lay eyes upon the man who rescued me." Her curiosity now taking a hold of her. Why won't he expose himself to her? That beard...he must have reasons to hide himself.

"Absolutely not! Ye are aboard my ship, mistress! I am the one who gives the orders. Is that understood?"

She nods quickly. Her body is shuddering helplessly at the raised tone of his voice.

"Good. I will take my leave for now. Ye must stay here in this room. Do not leave without my permission!" He grumbles and then disappears into the blackness of the corner. A sound of rushing water follows and then there is silence.

Trembling still, she scans the darkness for his form. She slowly lifts her legs to place them on the floor. Grasping the nearby table, she pulls herself to her feet. The wound at her side causes her to jolt forward in agony, but she is determined to see where he went. There was no sound of a door opening or closing. No footsteps were heard outside the room.

Creeping along the damp and slippery floor, she is terrified that he may be waiting in the shadows for her. Her body shakes as she approaches the darkness. She reaches for a candle in the candelabra and directs the light toward the corner where he once stood. Ignoring her pain, she rushes over to press her fingers to the wall. It is solid and strong. There is no way a mortal human being could exit from here! A stream of moisture runs down to collect into a puddle of water at her feet.

She falls to the floor in a desperate lump. "How did he leave?" Her words escape with barely a sound as her lungs wildly expand and collapse. "He is a phantom! What matter of hell is this?"


	2. Chapter 2

She huddles beneath the rough blanket he gave her. Shivering from fear, only her eyes are exposed to the outside world. They quickly dart around, anxiously searching for any slight movement in her darkened prison.

After witnessing her captor's unfathomable exit, Liliana knew she wasn't dealing with a mortal. She quickly grabbed all the candles and brought them over to her bedside. Her corner of the room is now bathed in an eerie glow, leaving the remainder of the room in a still blackness. Night has since fallen and she is now hoping the light will protect her. _He did not pass the candlelight before_...she thinks nervously, _maybe he won't come near me if it surrounds me_.

Her fear tries to overwhelm her. It takes all her strength to fight back the burning tears. Throughout the day, they would stab at her lower eyelids as she refused to give in to her terror. Even now as she sits contemplating her circumstances, she has to resist the urge to turn into a complete watering pot.

"Tears will do you no good here," she mumbles to herself. Her aching head has gone past the point of agony. She now focuses solely on how she will escape. But how can she? She is on a ship and has no way of knowing if she is anywhere near land. Jumping ship would mean certain suicide if not. She shudders hard to think that this may be her only option.

Liliana inhales deeply to calm her racing emotions. Slowly, she tries to rationalize the situation. He has left her alone all day, if he meant to do her harm, surely he would have done it by now. He has given her ample time to plan her escape, even though there may not be one. He had rescued her five days prior, he had plenty of opportunity to take advantage of her while she was incapacitated.

She had made certain to check. With all the aches and pains stabbing at her body, there was no pain _there_ to indicate that she was a victim of that sort of horrid violation. No signs of blood either.

During the day, she heard the masculine voices of many crewmen outside the cabin door. Torment set in as she tried to figure out if they were friend or foe as well. Now in the darkness, the voices have ceased. The ship seems to have stopped sailing, for its incessant creaking and groaning has finally gone quiet.

Her body curls tighter underneath the blanket as the image of his massive shadow creeps through her mind. The memory of the writhing, serpentine motion of his beard still haunts her even with her eyes tightly closed now. _What sort of being could he possibly be?_

Her mind gradually wanders on to her next pressing issue. He had asked her for her name and she could not provide it. For some reason, she has forgotten what many take for granted. Her memories. Once again the tears pool along her eyelids as she wonders if someone, somewhere, is searching for her. Are they going absolutely mad just looking for her? Or worse, maybe she has no one out there who cares at all. She knows not her age, her country of origin, or anything that might be of comfort during this dreadful time. She would give anything to have a sweet face to remember, to give her strength. But all she sees is darkness, complete and unforgiving darkness.

"I am all alone." She whispers in despair.

She shivers once more, this time because of a cold draft creeping it's way up her backside. Her stomach sinks as a feeling of morbidity flows in around her. He is here.

"Show yourself!" Her voice shakes as her back straightens. She allows the blanket to fall down to her side. "I know you are here!"

Her eye catches a glimpse of movement in the corner near the large organ. "What do you want with me? Surely I am no use to you aboard this ship! I demand that you show yourself to me at once!"

Her heart begins to race as she is greeted with only silence. Perhaps demanding the captain do something is not the best approach...

The silence is broken by the sound of a heavy footstep. It is then quickly followed by a loud thud. The footsteps grow louder as he draws closer to her safe haven. Then more silence.

Her eyes strain through the darkness. She leans forward in a desperate attempt to see him. Another cold chill travels through her body.

"Be careful what ye wish for..." His voice floats through the room in a morbid whisper. Before her eyes, a monstrous creature materializes. Tentacles writhing. Cold, vivid blue eyes stare down at her with a ferocity that tears at her soul. A massive crab claw is held agape, waiting to strike. Upon his clothing are barnacles, stinging anemones, and the same putrid sea life that plagues this ship.

She lets out a horrified shriek from the pit of her stomach and dives beneath the blankets. His horrific face is burned into her memory and she sees him behind her eyelids. Her heart is racing, pounding like a drum at an execution.

The captain is taken aback by her response, his head tilts to the side as he tries to understand her logic. Reaching down, he grabs the blanket and rips it away from her. "How in the bloody hell do ye expect _this_ to protect ye?" He yells tauntingly, waving her pathetic source of protection in her face.

She forces herself to look up and gaze into his frigid eyes. Seeing her reflection, she screams again and curls into a tight, impenetrable ball. "Go away!" Her muffled cries escape from under her body.

Unable to stifle a sardonic chuckle, he tosses the blanket back at her. "Ye were the one demanding I show myself, were ye not? Ye got what ye wanted and couldn't take it." Grabbing one of her candles, he limps his way over to a bench in front of the organ, every second step giving off the same bone-chilling thud. He plants himself on the bench, letting out a sigh that is not audible to the girl. The captain is more than accustomed to this sort of reaction, but somehow, he was hoping hers would be different. Jones had thought long and hard about how he wanted to approach her when she awoke. It had not gone according to plan, it certainly had not gone well.

After a few minutes of cowering, she slowly lifts her head to see that he has his back to her. She pushes herself up into a seated position, gently fixing the layers of her ruined dress into a neat pile around her. Regaining her sense of propriety, she realizes that he did not harm her. No matter how frightening this creature may be...again, he did not harm her. "My...most sincerest apologies, sir. But you did give me quite the start..."

"Ha! Don't ye think I'm used to it by now?" He growls while looking over his shoulder.

"What are you-?" She questions him boldly.

"Dead." He interrupts her before she can finish, his tone a mixture of anger and remorse.

"Dead? Does this mean that I..."

"Welcome to the afterlife, Mistress Liliana." He grumbles over his shoulder.

"No...no! You said you rescued me!" She slowly crawls off the mattress and plants her feet to the floor. "A dead person does not need rescuing."

He turns to face her, stopping her in her tracks. "When one is doomed to the Locker or Hell, then, yes. Ye do need rescuing. I saved ye from an eternity of wandering and suffering." Jones explains only half of the truth.

"Hell?" Liliana mutters to herself. "Why? I have done no wrong!"

"Ye do not recall your past, remember?" He reminds her sharply, staring at her with his cold eyes.

She bitterly swallows the harsh truth. She does not know what she has done in the past, perhaps she belongs here..."why have you saved me?"

"I told ye already. I do not know why!" He growls angrily. As he stares at her, he feels the anger within him dwindle when she winces at his tone.

For the past five days, all he could think about was her well being. He wanted nothing more than to hear her voice and finally see the color of her eyes. When trying to focus on his work, his mind often wandered to the gentle flow of her auburn hair. He longed to run his fingers through it. Her lips would often tease him with delight, the idea of kissing her tormenting him throughout the day. "For the life of me, I do not know why I saved ye. Ye will be of little value to this ship."

Jones would watch her sleep at night, noticing the shape of her petite figure, the gentle curve of her small nose and the light spray of freckles across her cheeks. It has been so long since he has felt these feelings, it has been forever since he's desired a woman. This small, delicate creature has brought this all back to him for no apparent reason, and it is killing him to find out why. He had done what he thought was necessary to remove any chance for emotion in the future, why does this feminine being bring them out of him?

"I see." She says quietly as she falls back on the mattress. "It's just another unanswered question to be added to my list. So I am truly deceased?"

"Aye, miss. That blow to your head alone was probably what took ye."

She reaches up and lightly touches the gash on her forehead. It is still very tender and stings with slightest brush of her fingertips. She then takes a deep breath, the sigh releases some stress built within. "Wait. If I am dead, then how can I still require air for my lungs? How is it that I can still feel my heart beating against my chest? How is it possible that I can still speak?"

The captain grins to himself and turns back to the ornately decorated organ, unrolling a map he had placed there earlier. "Yes, that last part is rather unfortunate." He now finds himself wondering how he could have ever wished to hear her voice.

Her eyebrows furrow into a frown. "What?"

He straightens and turns all the way around to face her, slightly embarrassed that his sarcasm had escaped his better judgment. "Madame, your perception of death does not apply here in the afterlife. Your view of the world is still very much mortal. Nothing that applies out there will apply in here." His hand makes a sweeping motion from the window back to the center of the room. It is then she notices the tentacle wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"I am immortal?"

He scoffs at her perception. "Nay. Just undead. Ye will eventually meet your Maker."

"There is a difference?" She questions him, her fear of him now slightly diminished by curiosity. There is something about him that seems so familiar. But she is unable to place him. Perhaps he reminds her of someone from her past. Maybe his presence is bringing her memory back. There is something about those blue of his eyes that stimulates her.

"Markedly different." He responds sarcastically as if she should know better. "I keep ye here on this ship until whenever."

"This is all so very confusing."

"What is so confusing about being dead?" Jones snickers.

"Nothing, really. But if this is not Hell, it certainly cannot be heaven." She pauses as he laughs sourly to himself. "This is purgatory?"

"Well, we now know ye are Catholic, Miss." He observes. "But most people aboard this vessel would consider this Hell..."

"I am forced to be here, then?"

"Nay. Feel free to jump overboard. Though I will warn ye, we are in the Caribbean and the reef sharks might take a fancy to your undead flesh." He sends her a cruel wink. "Oh, and once ye leave the ship, ye are truly dead. Then ye have no choice in the matter."

"So either way, I am a prisoner!" Liliana's tone becomes exasperated.

"Ye have sworn no oath to me. I told ye, ye can leave if you want." The captain sends her a wry smile, knowing that she no real options. She must choose a life aboard his ship or full death, just like everyone else. "The choice is up to ye." He sends her a slight bow before turning back to his distracting map.

He has always given his victims the choice, but there was always a threat behind it. Death and judgment or one hundred years more. _Seems like a simple choice, really_, he always chuckles to himself. It is a cruel game, but one he adores playing. Seeing pain in others somehow eases his own. But for some unknown reason, he does not wish Liliana harm like so many others.

Normally he would have propositioned her the moment she was awake. But he has no intention of forcing her to stay, he never has. He wants her to make that decision on her own. Deep inside, he wants her to choose a life next to him. This, most of all, has him perplexed. What kind of life could it possibly be?

"If I stay, what is to become of me?"

Jones knows exactly what she is asking. "It is unclear. No one ever knows what they will become."

"So the crew is like this too?" Liliana's throat goes dry at the thought of being surrounded by more monsters. "Captain, were you a human once?"

His tentacled head slowly turns towards the bed. His brow furrows into a deep frown as he takes a deep breath to control his temper. "What, I am not one now?" The captain's voice escapes in a slow, cold rasp.

Liliana worries her lower lip with her teeth. "My apologies, sir, if I offended you. I seem to have swallowed my own foot." She attempts mild humor to see if she can lighten his mood. The immense size of the man alone is enough to inform her he could snap her in half if he has the mind to.

"That ye did." He grumbles and turns back to the organ so he can hide his frustration. Normally, he would just lash out at anyone who vexes him, and this woman is turning into a real test of his patience.

"Well, If I may be so bold as to insist on more information, if I were to be sent to Hell, or this Locker, as you call it, does that mean past sins determine the severity of the condition?" She finds herself asking a question she is not sure she wants an answer to.

His eyes lift up from the map when he is suddenly overwhelmed by the memories of the past. He has the vague recall of his mother's face. But he has long since forgotten the sweet trill of her voice. He always was her favorite son. He had lived a good life, one of hard work and pride. Perhaps the latter being his only real sin. For at one point, he was the best merchant sailor to ever sail the world's oceans. No storm was too great, no pirate too strong to take his cargo. When he had reached the top of his game, he had wanted more. And that is when everything went wrong.

He clears his throat and goes back to the map. "Were ye an iniquitous woman in your past, Mistress Liliana?"

"I would certainly not remember, sir." Her tone becomes defensive.

"Then no. It does not. Time determines the outcome and the suffering. On this ship, time does not heal all wounds, as they say. Rather, it lets them fester and boil until ye can take it no longer."

Liliana sinks down hopelessly into the mattress, burying her face in the coarse blanket. "What foul thing have I done to deserve this?"

Jones turns his head at her cry of despair. He suddenly realizes that he may be pushing her towards death, the exact opposite of what he desires. "Do not fret, madame." He says casually. "It may not seem so bleak in the morning. Until then, I suggest ye try to get some rest."

She lifts her head from the blankets to watch as he heads towards her, dousing the candle he took with him. He is now enveloped in darkness again. "What are you doing?" She asks warily.

"Suspicious little thing, aren't ye? I am merely extinguishing the candlelight. I am tired and would like to retire for the night."

Her eyebrows snap together. "Sleep? You mean to sleep in here? With me?"

"Well, it is my cabin after all." His tone tells her that she should know better.

"Surely you know it is improper to share a bedchamber with a lady." Her voice shaking.

"Ha! Well, if ye are so uncomfortable sharing habitation with me, why don't ye go cuddle with the crew below deck! I'm sure they'd welcome the feminine presence after so long." He threatens her with a wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"Certainly you do not wish to share the bed-"

His hand snaps up in front of her face to stop her from continuing. "I will sleep at my bench, as I normally do." He reaches out for the candles again.

"Please...can we just leave them burning, just for tonight?"

Jones' blue eyes roll over in frustration. "Bloody hell..." He mutters bitterly to himself. Why must women be such a pain? "Fine. Ye can keep _one_. Though I am not sure what good it will do ye." He snaps at her and blows out every candle but the one nearest to her. "Goodnight..."

The room much darker now, she listens to his footsteps as he walks away. The sound of the bench creaking tells her that he has taken his seat for the night. He lets out a heavy sigh in the darkness, one full of exhaustion and sadness.

She remains seated for a few moments before covering herself with the blanket again. Liliana cannot help but fixate on the many contrasting emotions she has witnessed from this strange man. He seems cold and distant, harsh and angry. But underneath it all there seems to be a child-like vulnerability and a plaguing sorrow. She saw it there in his eyes for a fleeting moment when she asked him about the curse.

"Thank you." She says softly, as she prepares herself for the long night ahead. She certainly will not be getting any rest, as the captain commanded.


	3. Chapter 3

A new sensation greets her when she wakes early the next morning. With a loud growl, her stomach announces that it is empty. Liliana runs a hand over her belly in an attempt to placate its foul mood. She has no idea when she ate last but it must have been a while ago. With all the stress of finding out she is no longer among the living, and seeing the man that she must now share her space with, she had completely ignored her stomach. She still does not understand how she can be hungry and dead at the same time.

Rolling over on the mattress, she releases a deep yawn before rubbing her tired eyes with the side of her hand. The sun has only just risen above the horizon; the air is still cool from the night before. Through the filthy paned glass window she can see a hint of crimson in the early sky. She strains to hear the call of sea birds; their presence will give away the proximity of nearby land. But all she hears is the working crew and the groaning of the traveling ship.

"Still here," she mutters to herself, hoping she was actually having a dream about this nightmarish place. "And no sign of my roommate."

He must have left the room before dawn. She wonders in silence how he did this without waking her. The floor creaks with his every step, the door squeals when it opens. She then recalls how he exited the first night they met. "Must have walked through another wall," she says jovially in a weak attempt to lighten her mood.

How many days has it been? This would be her second morning, she ponders to herself. In total, she has been aboard the _Dutchman_ for a week now. She still struggles to find a trace of memory within her, but nothing has shown itself yet. The only key to her past is the ruined, sack back gown on her body and the books by her bedside.

It is beyond maddening to comprehend that the only memories she has now are of that cantankerous captain. She has no trouble remembering the vivid blue of his piercing eyes or the harsh coldness in his voice. His stare seems to be on her even when he's not in the room, carefully watching her. She shrugs the silly notion off. Surely he is not monitoring her...

When in the room, his presence caused a morbid chill to creep through her body. That ghastly beard haunts her even now. Just thinking of its writhing and serpentine motion causes her to shiver with fear.

What a dreadful creature. Half squid, the other half crustacean. His massive body teeming with sea life. "He is a walking reef!" She blurts out, half laughing.

Her response to his appearance last night, however, was less than polite, she corrects herself sternly. But how could she not be frightened by his horrendous, aquatic features? Even if she cannot remember her past, she is certain she has never seen someone so terrifying before. Still, there must be a human being underneath it all. Hidden and buried under all the hostility and layers of moist tentacles.

A tender voice continues to whisper to her whenever he crosses her mind. Something tells her not to be afraid of him. There was a profound sadness in his eyes; it was hiding behind the anger, desperate not to be seen. He seems more like a lost soul than a villainous monster out to get her. Somehow, she hopes that this instinct is correct.

Liliana's stomach rumbles hard with its hunger again. Her eyes scan the massive room for any sign of food. She is so hungry that she would be willing to lick the scraps off of someone's dinner plate just to end the insatiable pain plaguing her now. Even primitive necessities would lower the most genteel woman into unimaginable behavior.

She walks around the room in her bare feet, her silken slippers lost to the waves a few nights before. The wood floor is cold and slippery to walk on, not in the least inviting to her exposed toes.

As she moves, she gazes up at the cathedral ceiling in amazement. The massive wooden planks holding it up are soaking wet but sturdily in place. Thick plumes of seaweed and kelp dangle from them helplessly, waving in the moist air with the ship's motion. On the left side of the room, a tall-standing table is lined with many unlit candles. Years of their burning has left thick, bubbly mounds of hardened wax built up on the table top. She scans the surface and then runs her fingers over it in case she has missed something in the dark. Nothing. Not even a crumb. Her fingers are only greeted by the sensation of more prickly barnacles.

Walking across the room to his desk she examines its contents. Maps are strewn about, although carefully rolled up and tied with a single string. A quill pen made from a sea bird's feather sticks out from its reservoir of ink, its plume still straight and intact. He is literate, she thinks to herself as she glances at a massive log book. His writing is immaculate and quite legible. He seems to have a sense of cleanliness about him, but no longer cares about meticulous order.

Still no food.

The inquisitive girl passes by a large trunk. Already feeling like she is intruding on his privacy by rummaging through his visible personal possessions, she chooses not to look inside it. Her hunger tells her to move on.

She continues lifting small items to see if there are any scraps. A scurrying crab catches her attention as it makes its way from one protective shadow to another. It stops and stares back at her as if it knows what she is contemplating. Seconds feel like minutes for the both of them.

"I'm not that hungry." Liliana mutters as she lets it creep away with its life. The thought of killing an innocent creature and then feasting on its uncooked flesh does not appeal to her. Not yet.

She turns back to her search. A flicker of metallic light catches her eye over by the organ. Reaching over, she picks up a heart-shaped locket. On it, a woman's face and what appears to be crab legs jutting out from the top and sides. She uses her thumb to pry it open and a sweet melody greets her ears.

"A lullaby." She whispers as she listens to the tinkling notes. What a tender possession for such a harsh man...

"That is not yours to play with."

Liliana spins around on her heels and stares helplessly up at the towering captain Jones. Her breath becomes rapid and she has to force herself to close her gaping mouth. He stares down at her with a glare that torments her soul.

His hand reaches out and snatches the locket away from her. Slapping the top down, the room goes quiet.

"I'm sorry. It caught my eye...it's beautiful."

"Bah..." He snarls and tosses the locket back onto the organ. "What else have ye been rooting through while I was away? Obviously no one ever taught ye that it is not polite to be looking through other people's possessions!"

"It's just that..."

"What?" He growls down at her, his beard twisting and writhing with impatience.

"I'm...hungry."

His head jerks back as he contemplates her words. "Aye, that's right. Pets need to be fed too," he snickers sarcastically. "Well, I hate to disappoint ye, Miss Liliana, but ye will have slim pickings to choose from here."

"Such as...?" She lowers the hand that instinctively went to cover her heart.

He hobbles over to the organ bench and takes a seat. A sarcastic grin smears across his face. "Well. Ye can have fish. Or...ye can have nothing." Jones' blue eyes dart from the floor to her face, giving her a look of false empathy.

She tries to hide her dismay from him.

"What is the matter?" He leans closer to her, waiting for her response.

"I think I have recalled that I do not like fish."

Jones throws his head back in a booming, sinister laugh. "Well, then it is nothing for ye then!" He cackles as he prepares himself to stand.

"Please. There must be something else. I am so hungry, I believe I am beginning to digest my own innards." Her hand moves to cover her stomach squeezed beneath her corset. The tightness of the garment is probably keeping most of her hunger at bay.

Jones grimaces at her description. "Very well. I will find something."

Some time passes and he returns with a bucket. A look of sardonic pleasure seems to be trying to escape from his face, but he fights it back with strict precision. He places the bucket in front of her on the bed.

Leaning over, she inhales the pungent scent of raw fish. "Ugh!" She pushes it away with her hands and frowns at him. "This is all there is to eat? It's not even cooked!" She looks back into the bucket. "Or gutted!"

He chuckles at her dismay. Grabbing a nearby chair, he carries it over to her bedside and places it on the floor with a loud bang. Taking a seat, he leans in and smiles. "Don't be so missish. More protein this way. Ye get to eat what they ate!"

"Ugh! No! That is vile and absolutely vulgar!"

He reaches into the bucket and pulls out a dead sardine. Wiggling the dead body in her face, he snickers, "I thought ye were hungry, miss?"

Liliana wipes off some of the slime that sprayed on to her cheeks. "I can manage without this."

"Not for long. Eventually these little fellows will look mighty tempting. But I did find something else." He reaches into his coat.

"Anything is better than this!"

"Here ye go." He tosses a round biscuit in front of her on the bed. "Hardtack."

Ignoring her manners, she reaches down and grasps the biscuit in her hands. To her dismay, it is as hard as wood. She looks back at him.

"It might be a little stale. And old..."

She ignores him and bites in. When her front teeth won't dig into it, she turns it to the side of her mouth and clamps down with her back teeth. She has to grind and pull at it to break off a tiny piece. The texture is chewy and it quickly becomes stuck to her teeth. It gets swallowed as a hard ball and nearly blocks her airway.

"How old?" She asks after taking another bite.

"Oh, I reckon a couple of decades at least."

"Hm?" She looks up at him in despair, one cheek bulging out as she tries to break up more of the tasteless meal.

"Don't worry. I'm sure there are plenty of weevil eggs buried in there. Ye'll get your protein for sure." The captain sends her a sardonic wink.

She pauses. Going against her better judgment, she spits the half chewed biscuit out into her hand.

Again, he bursts into laughter at her expense. "Oh, I haven't laughed this hard in years!"

"It is not funny, sir!" Liliana's temper begins to rise and her tone is exasperated.

"I believe that it is. Ye will have to decide which is more desirable. 'Tis either whole raw fish or weevil laden hardtack, because that is all there is."

"You obviously have a very cruel sense of humor, Captain Jones." She mutters bitterly.

"I cannot help it that ye are too much of a child to handle the morsels we have." He torments her, hoping a challenge will force her to overcome her sensitivity.

"I am not a child!"

"Nigh? Just because ye have those doesn't mean ye are an adult." He points at her breasts and grins when she covers her chest with her free hand. "Why, I bet ye are no more than six and twenty."

"Well, that would make me an adult. Would it not?"

Jones reaches into the bucket and picks up a smaller sardine. "Prove it. Be a big girl and eat your fish."

Her hand trembling, she reaches out and grasps the head of the fish. Her throat goes dry as her stomach twists and turns. She stares at it and turns its tail towards her face so the scaly meal is not looking at her as she places it into her mouth.

"No, no! Ye have to swallow them head first, girl! Especially the spiny ones. Ye don't want them getting caught in your throat on the way down, do ye?" He grabs the fish and turns it to face her, now staring at her with its unseeing dead eyes.

"I may get sick..."

"Well, ye will be the one to clean it. Not I. Just close your eyes… stick it in and swallow."

Another violent rumble in her belly reminds her of her agony. "Very well," she gasps.

Squeezing her eyes shut and holding her breath, she pops the little fish into her mouth and swallows. The feel of its cold and slimy body traveling down her esophagus makes her gag slightly. Her mouth is salty and bitter, the smell of raw fish flooding her nose. She chokes slightly as some scales come off and become lodged in her throat. Her stomach turns over and it takes all her strength to keep the nasty meal down.

"Breathe." He tells her roughly.

"Water..." She rasps.

He reaches into his overcoat again and pulls out a flask.

"Not rum! Water!" The girl coughs.

"Ye think me a booze hound? It is water, fresh rain water, I caught this morn." He hands over the flask and watches as she downs it. He shakes his head and smiles sardonically at her.

Jones finds himself surprised that he actually got her to eat the fish. He thinks back to the first time he forced himself to swallow a whole fish and how it made him want to vomit it right back up.

She wipes her lips with her hand, catching a small droplet of water as it travels down her chin. It is then she notices that the sharp pains in her abdomen have quieted slightly.

He nods and takes the flask back from her. "Not so bad, aye?"

"It was awful!" She sputters. Looking back at the crumpled up, half-chewed biscuit in her hand, she reconsiders the hardtack, weevils and all.

"But I bet the hunger has waned."

"Yes." She admits in defeat. "Captain. Is this what you all eat? All the time?"

"Aye. We have little choice."

"You have no access to food? Surely you can get some when you make port."

"Aye. But we don't make port very often." Jones' voice is soft as he leans forward.

She gazes over at him. For the first time, she can hold his eye contact and not be afraid. She examines the many lines and creases on his face, his strong and bold cheek bones, and the little siphon on the left side of his face that dilates as he breathes in. He must be incredibly aged for he looks like he has been severely weathered by the oceanic climate. Years of exposure to corroding salt water, strong winds and beating rain show signs of his age.

She sends him a subtle smile of gratitude. He took the time to find her food and gave her his own drinking water, she realizes. And even though his method was crude, he did convince her to eat for her own well-being. Suddenly, he doesn't seem so terrifying. Suddenly he isn't such the grotesque monster he was a few moments prior.

"Thank you, Captain Jones."

"Think nothing of it." He shifts uncomfortably at her warm tone. "Ye needed food and ye cannot get it on your own."

She nods and considers what is beyond the door of this room. "I am not allowed out with the crew. Am I?"

"Nigh. They wouldn't know how to behave around a genteel lady such as yourself."

"Then I am to remain in here all my days?" She questions him.

"For as long as I see fit." He stands and looks down at her face. For the first time, she is looking at him without fear dancing in her sensual brown eyes. For some reason, he is relieved by this.

Her lips are relaxed and slightly pursed. He shakes his head slightly at the thought of pressing his lips to hers. Why do these thoughts continue to torment him? Why must she always bring these feelings of lust to the surface? It has been centuries since he's known the desire for a female, the need for pleasures of the flesh. He didn't think it could ever be possible again...

"Captain. If I may implore you to find me some clothing. I doubt that this dress is much use to me now." She looks down at the crumpled layers of ruined fabric and vainly tries to flatten the wrinkles with her fingers.

Watching her there, he cannot imagine her in anything else, for she is exquisite in the deep maroon hue of her gown. The shade brings out the porcelain delicacy of her pale skin while enhancing the red flicks throughout her auburn hair. The gentle V-line of her stomacher cinches her waist into a playful curve while the delicate floral designs and pearls add beauty and grace to her feminine features. Yes, she should not be reduced to wearing anything less.

Then again, he wouldn't mind seeing her wearing nothing at all. The beauty underneath all those layers would be far more impressive than any dress. He wonders if he should regret not undressing her when he had the chance. She must be smooth, warm, inviting...lovely...

"Captain?"

Again, he shakes his head. Her voice knocks him harshly out of his reverie. He tries to hide the dazed look he must have on his face with a casual grin.

"Are you feeling ill, sir?"

"Tremendously..." He mumbles to himself.

"Can you assist me in this?" She sends him a meek smile.

The captain takes a deep breath while correcting himself harshly in his mind. _She'd never want ye, ye fool! Don't even imagine it!_

He sends her a polite bow. "Aye, miss. I will see what I can do."


	4. Chapter 4

A favorable wind kisses the tattered sails of the _Dutchman_ as she quickly makes her course. Leaving behind the skeletal remains of a sunken galleon, the Captain sets his mind to the next harvest. Ahead on the horizon, heavy black clouds threaten with torrential winds and piercing rain. Jones follows these storms like a beacon, knowing some foolish sailors might have braved the weather and ran afoul. Their loss is always his gain.

The darkening sky matches his somber mood. Normally impossible to please, he is even more so today. "Aloft! Loosen that canvas!" He bellows to his crew above as he notices a slight change in the wind. "Put that helm over!"

His orders are obeyed without thought and the ship changes direction to suit the wind. Jones nods to his surly boatswain to make sure that the whip is ready for any slight mistake. Many backsides will be split open today.

He takes a finger to the side of a cannon, running it along the crowded sea life. "This won't do…" he mutters bitterly to himself. The _Dutchman_ accumulates sea life with every day she travels, making her heavy and cumbersome. "I want this ship scraped clear! I want speed! Not a moments rest until I can see my face on those bloody cannons!"

He pauses as he considers seeing his grizzly reflection in the rusted metal. He has avoided anything reflective for centuries now, even averting his gaze from the water's calm surface in the early morning. It would be impossible to make those cannons shine now. No matter, his crew will still suffer for it. When the Captain suffers, they all must feel his pain.

The crackling of barnacles under his feet only aggravates him more. "Blast it all to hell and damn every one of your eyes!" He bellows, making his voice harsh with a rasp. "Bosun! Get your men in order!"

Jones looks down at the sensation of something scurrying over his booted foot. A large green crab innocently makes its way along the crusted deck. "Dammit!" He shrieks and boots the hapless crustacean over the side with a burning fury. "Take that, ye bloody bastard!"

A sudden clenching of his chest forces him to stop in his tracks. Reaching up, he clutches the puckered scar underneath his heavy beard. The pain floods through his body like a wave and then quickly dissipates, leaving him breathless for a few agonizing moments.

He finally catches his breath as memories suddenly rush in. Memories of the night he made that horrendous scar. Under his ragged shirt, his fingers run the length of it, from collar bone to abdomen. It hasn't ached since it was created, why now does it bother him so? His mind helplessly drifts to that night.

How he just wanted the pain to end. He just wanted her memory to go away. She had promised him the world and only gave half. Jones wanted eternity, and he got it, an eternity of suffering and misery. It was what she promised and didn't deliver that made him the monster he is today.

_I will give you immortality if you serve me for ten years. Then we will meet and we will be together always._

Her words spoken centuries ago stab at him as if she was now whispering them in his ear.

He had counted down the days, the hours, and even the minutes until he could take her in his arms and prove his undying love to her. All the love letters he wrote to her late at night would finally be read. And he would sit there and watch her smile at his written words of devotion.

He went to that beach on Isla Cruces and he waited.

And waited.

As the sun sank to the horizon that day, so did his hopes of her arrival. With the last of the dying light, his hope for her love faded with it.

What was he to feel? Sad? Betrayed? No…fooled. He believed her when she said she loved him. He devoted ten years to her service, doing her work so she could run off and play like all goddesses tend to do. Perhaps she had even been cuckolding him the whole time! A tear tried to form on his eyelid, but his anger fought it back. No, the sensitive and tender man died that day. Jones was reborn into a world of hatred and rage.

He stormed around his ship with a fury that terrified his crew. They had never seen their captain behave in such a manner.

How could he be so foolish? He gave up his freedom! Now he is trapped aboard this wretched vessel for an eternity. All because of her and her false promises. How could she have possibly loved him and still hurt him this way? He had trusted her with his heart. What an idiotic thing to do.

_Well_, he thought to himself with bitterness,_ if she won't keep her end of the bargain, why should I_? It was at that moment, that fleeting second that he condemned himself and his crew to the misery of the curse. No longer would he be her fool and carry the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Even if it meant they would all become hideous sea monsters.

Days past and the rage only continued to build inside. It burned within him, tearing apart his soul into a million shattered pieces. His heart throbbed with a depressing agony. He then realized that he may have to live with this for the rest of his immortal life. That is when he picked up the gulley.

Jones held the knife up in the night sky, admiring how it reflected the silver rays of the moon. He laughed maniacally when he caught the sight of his own eyes in its metallic surface. Filled with despair and a sadness he had never seen before, he was unrecognizable even to himself. There was this strange person viciously staring back, judging him and all his faults.

"I no longer want to feel. I no longer want the pain she has caused me!" He spoke silently to himself as he plunged the knife deep into his chest. A scream escaped from his throat, but he soon found that the burning heat of the knife under his flesh released the torrent of pain inside.

Dragging the blade down, his flesh gave way to the edge. Muscles shredded and collapsed. Blood spewed out onto his pristine deck, staining it with his life fluid. The weapon then became ensnared on bone, the object of his macabre attention trapped within his protective ribcage.

His jaw clenched, teeth showing like a growling animal, he pulled with all his might to break into the fortress of bone. _Snap._

_Snap._

_Snap._

His chest expanded as his ribs were freed of the breastbone, the detached ends poking through the massive wound as if reaching out for mercy. A violent rush of heat raced through his body as the overwhelming, self inflicted pain pierced his every nerve. His footing became slippery with the coagulating blood beneath his feet. Shaking, he reached in and severed the connections of his heart and removed it from his being. Jones held it there, the pulsing organ that was the source of this misery.

He stared at it with hatred, his hand heavily smeared with the crimson fluid, trickling down his arm. To his amazement, his heart continued to beat in its normal rhythm. He placed it in a chest, locking it away from the world, hiding his pain from himself.

Jones paused. The pain was gone. There was nothing left but an empty hole. He closed the lid and locked the pain away and collapsed on the deck in a bloody heap. His body emptied of all its life sustaining fluid.

He now shakes his tentacled head of this horrible reverie. For centuries now, he has lived without the memory of that night. Now this misery seems to be back to haunt him yet again. What could possibly be driving him to remember the past so vividly? He lifts his head and stares out to sea. The realization hits him like a rogue wave.

The girl.

Of course! It all makes sense now. That wretched little creature is a female. Her presence aboard this ship reminds him of the same little chit that damaged him so. Bringing her on board was a mistake. Saving her was the wrong thing to do.

"She must go." He mutters to himself as another pain stabs in his chest. She is causing him to remember and he cannot allow that. The Captain storms toward his cabin.

_Foul and wicked, women are. I despise them! Nothing but flighty heart breakers that derive pleasure from seeking pain. She is no different, just like the other one. I'll bet she's laughing at the misery she's causing me! I'll show her the meaning of pain!_

He reaches for his broadsword as he quietly opens the door. The thought of slicing up her feminine body with its heavy blade sends an excited chill down his spine. His eyes survey the room and find her resting on the mattress.

Jones stops in his tracks. There she is, sleeping peacefully as if she wasn't caught in this hell. Her chest rises and falls with a gentle elegance. A hand lay curled next to her face, her index finger resting softly next to her closed eye. The other hand rests limply on the voluptuous curve of her hip. Loose tendrils of her auburn hair dangle onto her face, she appears almost angelic. She sighs in her sleep, completely unaware of the enraged man standing over her, ready to violate her supple flesh with his sword.

His eyes shut tight. Dammit, I cannot do it.

What is it about this woman? One minute her presence brings great wrath and the next he is hopelessly enthralled by her. For days now, her face has been haunting his mind. She smiled at him yesterday, a smile of genuine gratitude. How can he hurt her now that she is beginning to trust him? He takes a deep breath and sheaths his sword.

The girl is innocent of any wrong doing, and yet he was ready to punish her for something someone else did centuries ago. "She is not her. She may be a useless female, but she is not her. I am still human enough to understand that." He mutters quietly to himself as he closes the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Liliana snickers at the repulsive reflection cast on the filthy window pane in front of her. Tunneling her fingers through her hair, she ends up getting snagged more often than not. The matted mess appears to be the remainder of what was once an elegant coiffure. Now the auburn clumps half hang in a dismal disgrace. It literally has been through hell.

She yelps as she removes the hair pins to free the remaining tangles, thick strands of hair inevitably get plucked out during the process. She is not entirely sure, but she believes she would have never allowed herself to fall to such disarray before her accident.

"Blasted hair, I should just shave my head." She mumbles as removes the last stubborn pin. The image of her bald scalp tugs a smile into formation. How interesting that would be for the Captain if she were to suddenly take on the appearance of a nun. But then again, he couldn't possibly look at her any stranger. It's as if she's the one with the odd exterior.

There is so much to learn about this strange man she shares her living space with. She still finds his appearance frightening, still shocked at the sight of him when he enters the room. But there, in the deep recesses of his vivid blue eyes, something calls to her. Like a helpless caged bird, something in him wants liberation.

She has yet to put a finger on it or to figure out why she should even care. The man is holding her captive whether he wants to admit to it or not. And yet, she feels no urge to escape the safety of this prison he holds her in. The world outsides seems far more dangerous to her now. Not a soul can be trusted for it seems God has turned His back on her to leave her stranded here. No one would have sympathy for her, for she must deserve it somehow.

And yet, inexplicably, she is drawn to her captor. Even if his every move causes her to flinch, even if she cannot fully trust his word, she desires to know him like a moth recklessly desires the flame. The thought often makes her shudder deeply within.

Liliana pouts at her vain attempt to fix herself. The same crab that had escaped her ravenous hunger the previous day now sits perched on top of the Captain's globe. Its telescopic eyes flicker up and down as it mumbles voicelessly with its ever moving mouthpieces.

She sends it a crooked smile, "Oh come now, Spot. My hair isn't that bad." She pretends her only companion is teasing her for allowing her snarled locks to fall. "I am sure the Captain will love to see a woman with her hair down...even if it is a tangled, hideous mess. Imagine, a woman with her hair down, such impropriety for a man of his position! He's so uptight; he'll probably drop an egg right there on the floor! What a sight that would be, Spot. At least I'd have something else to eat besides fish!" Liliana giggles at the thought of making her uptight roommate uneasy with her over exposed femininity.

_The Captain would deserve it._ He seems to revel in tormenting her. After forcing the slime covered fish down her throat, she had requested a change of clothes. She is still waiting for that delivery. But a few hours later, another familiar call of nature forced her to ask another favor of the crabby captain.

"A chamber pot?" He snorted with disgust at her request.

"Well, if you prefer I go on the floor like an untrained house mutt, I suggest you provide me with one, sir." She lifted her head in defiance, knowing he most certainly would not prefer that. "And seeing since I am not allowed out on deck with the crew, I most certainly cannot make use of the proper facilities."

"Can't ye just go over the balcony? I do it all the time." His claw pointed angrily in the general direction.

Her head tilted to the side in shock. "I, as a woman, sir, lack the appropriate appendage to do such an uncouth thing." She shocked herself with the inappropriateness of her comment. But when one must go…

The Captain's eyes glittered with evil as his mind raced with the thought. "Pity. I would enjoy seeing your shiny bare ass hanging over the rail for a piss. Especially in that fancy dress of yours!"

She scowled at him with absolute disgust and frustration. The chamber pot, or rather a rusted old cooking pot, was delivered within minutes. He delivered it on one condition, that SHE is the one to empty it. And on a regular basis too. Agreeing, she bobbed a polite curtsy and shooed him out of the room. _So that is how to deal with this man_, she thought proudly.

The girl now turns back to her crustacean friend. "I wonder what I shall do today. Shall I do nothing like I did yesterday, or shall I do absolutely nothing at all like the day prior?" She pauses as her fingers roughly rake through another matted piece. "I must admit, Spot, this room is getting smaller by the day. And the curiosity of what lies beyond that door is starting to nibble at me. Surely I could hide in a secluded place for a peek. The Captain wouldn't even know I was there."

Spot raises a claw in the air and then lowers it.

"You're right. He'd chop me in half if I disobeyed." She turns back to her reflection in the window. Licking her fingers, she wipes a smudge of dried blood from her cheek. Her eyes squint at the sight of freckles on her face, instantly hating the little marks for some unknown reason.

She isn't what most would consider overly beautiful; she's plain more than anything. With her button nose and freckles, she looks like a child, with only her plump breasts to give her age away. She frowns at herself in the window.

Spot lifts the other claw up and then down.

"Don't be absurd. I am not trying to fix myself for him! I couldn't possibly care less about what he thinks." She hisses in the direction of the crab. But was the defense meant for Spot or to force herself to believe?

Spot lowers one eye and then the other.

"My apologies, Spot. It's this blasted corset. It's…digging into my ribs. One could not possibly maintain a pleasant disposition with this on." Liliana tugs at it but finds no relief. "That's it, it has to go!"

Her left hand swings behind her back, trying to reach the laces. Her right hand repeats the movement; it too is unable to grasp the freedom she desires. "Bloody hell." She swears in frustration. To get into a dress such as this, a woman would require a servant. That same servant would be necessary to get her out of this fabric prison.

"Well, at least I was well off to be able to afford a maid. Lord knows I would not have been able to get myself into this so tightly." She's satisfied from learning that little piece of information about herself. "What am I to do?" Her hands rise to the ceiling with annoyance.

Spot scurries off the globe and across the floor. The crab pauses in the shadows on an object.

"What have you got there?" She walks towards it and a beam of light reflects off a metallic surface. "A dagger! That's perfect. Such a good crab, you are!"

Spot disappears into the shadows as she stands with the blade in her hand. Carefully, she reaches back and politely picks at the laces with the tip of the knife.

"Oh, what the hell…" She laughs and takes the dagger to the fabric along the side of the dress and drags it down. The fabric gives way and the corset falls limply to the floor. Her high perched breasts bounce back into their natural position and her lungs finally fill to full capacity. The wound on her side instantly stops paining with the release of pressure.

"Air! Glorious air!"

As she turns round, the Captain is standing in the doorway with mouth agape. Here is this young woman with her hair hanging down over her shoulders as if it were her wedding night, her breasts barely covered by the remainder of her dress. She looks deliciously wanton.

"Captain! Forgive me!" Liliana reaches for her corset to cover her chest. "It was bothering me."

"That doesn't explain the hair, miss." Jones fights back a wicked smile. With all his might, he is going to pretend this image of her is horribly wrong to his senses. But he, instead, is delectably disturbed by her, causing his cold blood to suddenly flow at a faster rate. 'Ye are aboard a ship of all men, Miss Liliana. Propriety is of utmost importance here!"

"I understand that Captain, but I figured I was alone and…"

"Never assume ye are alone on a ghost ship, Madame. There are plenty of spirits to keep watch. At any rate," he pauses and tosses a pile of clothing on the floor in front of her, "here are the articles ye requested."

Kneeling on the cold floor, she sifts through the pile of damp clothing. "Breeches? You provide me with men's breeches when you have a problem with my hair being down? Captain Jones, that makes no sense at all." She smiles with one eye brow raised quizzically.

The wicked grin cannot be held back any longer. "It is either men's clothing or nothing at all, Miss Liliana. Unless, that is, you prefer to continue wearing that cumbersome dress. And I am certain that you would be most uncomfortable wearing nothing but what your parents gave ye at birth." A part of him is hoping she wouldn't mind. There'd be no resisting the temptation then.

"That I would," she looks down and decides on an orchard green shirt to match the dark colored breeches. She looks up at him to thank him but notices a twinge of disappointment on his face. A childish voice in her head tells her to torment him for it. "After all, I'd hate to discontent you so, Captain, I know it would be such a moral inconvenience for you to have a young lady walking around with hair down and naked body exposed."

He clears his throat. "Hmm. Yes it would…" A heated image of the little temptress floods his mind. Her smooth pale skin exposed to his wanting eyes, walking towards him with the same need he feels for her now. His eyes squint tightly for a few seconds to block the reverie from his mind.

"I must thank you, Captain Jones. You've been most helpful over the past few days."

"Yes. Did ye empty that crap pot?" He stumbles over his discomfort in her kind words and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. _Dammit all…_

Her eyebrows narrow with frustration and her jaw hangs loosely. _That is your response? _She thinks bitterly to herself. "Yes. I did. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to change, if you please."

"_Humph_. My cabin and ye are bossing me around like ye own it yourself. I give the orders around here, missy."

"Fine." Liliana growls as she rises to her feet. A hand reaches up to her shoulder and pulls a sleeve down, exposing the round curve of her shoulder.

"What…what are ye doing?"

"I am changing! If you will not grant me privacy then I will just have to do it with you in the room." She grumbles, secretly knowing the Captain would never allow this to happen.

Jones' jaw clenches tight. He cannot be held responsible for his actions if she is naked in front of him! Every muscle in his body responds to the thought of touching her. Of kissing the back of her neck, feather light. "Don't ye dare…"

She looks over her bare shoulder and then sends him a wicked smile. Her deep brown eyes smolder with a teasing passion. "Then I suggest you leave."

The door slammed and caused the room the shutter with the force. His voice could be heard bellowing to his crew in a malevolent manner. She snickered at the realization that she had irked him so. It was quite entertaining to finally get the edge on him, to win this battle of wits with his own ammunition. Maybe this will be the way to bring some zest into her new life.


	6. Chapter 6

She is alone in a thick darkness. No, not alone. The heady scent of a masculine body is close enough to arouse her senses. His scent is the definition of what a man is, of what a man should be, gentle yet strong, comforting and intriguing all at once. Without sight, she knows he is powerful. He is graceful.

Both surrounded by the velvety midnight black, she breathes him in silently. Her mind tingles with the pleasure of it all. His presence alone engenders a feeling of being protected. Guided. Needed.

She cannot see his face to identify his features, but his warmth radiates to her, informing her that he is close. He speaks to her in a voiceless tone; his words enter her mind, not her ear. He speaks of desire, want, and passion.

His hand reaches out in the stillness to caress her cheek. Fingers gracefully slide down the gentle curve of her neck. They travel down father, along the rolling hills of her feminine figure, only pausing to tenderly clutch her thigh. A soft moan escapes her lips.

Those lips are parted unexpectedly as his mouth sinks into hers. Possessive and lustful, with a tender savagery that forces her to give in to him. An urge as old as time itself tells her to yield. She wants him. She wants to please him.

His caress causes a ripe warmness to flood her loins. She tries to call his name, but the word does not come out. She blinks and suddenly his musky male scent is gone, his tender touch removed.

A loud call of order from out on deck catches her attention. She opens her eyes to the shadows created by the setting sun, only to realize that he was only a dream.

She lifts her head from the pillow and scans the room around her.

Was it a dream? How could it have been? It felt so real. Liliana blushes at the remembrance of his erotic touch. Such an improper dream to have! But who was that faceless man that caused such a rush of desire in her? Her mind rushes to identify this naughty dream as a memory, but to no avail.

The door suddenly swings open and the captain remains standing there, watching her closely. "I came in here earlier today to inform ye that I would like to show ye the rest of the ship." He examines her meticulously, noting the voluptuous curve of her hips no longer hidden by thick layers of dress. It takes all his strength not to focus on the way her breasts look so appetizing beneath the thin layer of her shirt. He bites down hard on his lower lip to make the pleasurable thought go away.

Liliana rises from the bed, her loose hair falling forward into her face. "Really? To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Jones' mind begins to race. I want to show you my world. I want you to understand. I don't want you to fear me. I want to show you this glorious sunset that will quickly disappear. I want to know you.

He stumbles over her excitement. "Well, I figure ye will eventually get curious, and they say curiosity killed the cat. No need of ye getting into trouble. I can't watch ye forever." He frowns as he hears his own words escaping his mouth. Dammit it all...not again!

"Oh." She looks to the floor, slightly disappointed with his tone. "Very well." She takes a few steps toward him, her bare feet sensing the cold moisture on the floor. Her mind is still heavily focused on the dream. She places a hand over her blushing cheek, desperate to hide her shame.

He turns away from her and heads out the door. "Stupid! Stupid. Stupid!" He swears at himself, clenching his fist into a tight, impenetrable ball.

"Captain. I think I may have come up with a remedy to the food issue." She announces as she joins him at his side. "If you can provide the necessities, I would like to prepare the meals for you and your crew."

He stops in his tracks and stares down at her in disbelief. "Why on earth would ye want to do that?"

"Well. Let's consider it a way of thanking you for rescuing me. And I suppose it would be the quickest way for me to win over the crew. And, well, I would also gain from it by no longer having to ingest raw fish."

"The crew does not know ye are here." Jones sputters quickly.

"How could they not know?"

"They were not here when I brought ye on board." He grumbles as he walks past her into the fading light.

She steps out with him and notices that the deck is empty. With the dimming light, even the odd shapes of the ship are hard to make out. Familiar shapes of a vessel now appear ethereal to her, the sounds the ship normally make have ceased. All except for one disturbing noise. It sounds like the desperate moaning of dying men. She shakes it off and decides it is the wind moving through the sails.

"They are not here now." She mutters, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of this crew. Her mind has been racing with the thoughts of their appearance. But if they share similarities to their captain, perhaps she does not need to see them.

"Aye. They are off on a harvest." Jones turns around to face her. "This is why I brought ye out here. No one can harass ye and ye can get some fresh air." He nods his head towards the setting sun.

The water below the horizon is now black as the sky above. The only rays of light now escape from the sinking sun, an array of oranges, vermilions and coral pinks dance in the sky and taint the overhanging clouds above with their hue. A soft breeze travels across the open water, carrying the strong scent of sea salt with it.

Liliana turns her head towards the crimson sky. A smile brightens her face in the fading light of the day. "It's beautiful." A few strands of loose hair are carried by the wind into her face; she squints past them, unwilling to lose her view of this moment.

Jones looks over at the young woman and cannot help but think the same thing about her. The fading light glows on her soft skin, she seems radiant now. More than any sunset he has seen over the years.

Above, the stars begin to twinkle into their nightly existence. Liliana turns back to him. "Where has the crew gone?"

The captain clears his throat. "Remember how I told ye that I rescued ye from Hell or the Locker?" He waits for her nod. "Let's just say it is my job to do that with everyone who I find at sea."

"Like some sort of angel-"

His sarcastic laughter cuts her off. "No, quite the opposite." He examines the frown on her face. He needs to tell her the truth, even if it scares her. "Miss Liliana, I am known as the Sea Devil. Those who are foolish enough to join my ranks are forced to serve me and my ship for a century. Many of them are too afraid to face their sins from their past and choose to withhold their judgment."

"So I am a prisoner." She turns to confront him.

"No. Ye made no deal with me, as ye will recall." He says sternly.

"What makes me different, captain? Why am I not forced to serve you for a century?"

I wouldn't dream of making you suffer. Jones walks away and lights a lantern. "Ye are of no use to me."

Her hands go directly to her hips. "I do not understand you at all, Captain Jones. If I have no purpose, then I should not have been saved. Not that I want to die-"

"I haven't figured out your purpose." He growls over his shoulder to her.

She walks away and removes a loose strand of seaweed from the deck. "Then I shall cook for you and your crew. There, I now have a purpose. So we can both stop being tormented by your reasons for saving me. You said the crew was out on a harvest? Harvesting what?" She turns back to face him and sees that he is leaning against the mast with one arm.

"Souls."

She stifles a gasp at his blunt response. At least now it all makes sense.

"I also requested that they bring back supplies if they found any on the wreck." He straightens and turns to face her. "That way ye will get your food. 'Tis how ye got your clothing." A tentacle lifts and points at her shirt.

Liliana walks towards him, noting clearly how very tall he is when she reaches him. She has to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. "Am I to become like you?"

He does not respond. Instead, he looks out to the water, as if for an answer or guidance.

"Captain! Am I to become one of you?" She yells up in frustration.

"Yes! Dammit! If ye are on this bloody ship, ye become a monster!" Jones' eyes flare with rage at her disrespect. He settles when he catches a glimpse of the fear in her eyes. "We all eventually become what we fear. Go inside now. The crew will be returning shortly."

She does not look at him as she quickly walks past. She does not utter the slightest word in fears of showing her anguish. Unable to hold it back any longer, a single burning tear rolls down her cheek as she disappears into the darkness of the ship.

Removing his hat, he presses his forehead to the cold wood of the mast. "What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I function properly when around this woman? Dammit all to hell, I should have killed her when I had the chance. She frustrates me so!"

No. He couldn't possibly kill her when he thinks about it long enough. When his eyes close, her face is there. Smiling. Trusting. To hurt her now would surely replace that sweet image with her fear. Her voice is a soft melody in his ears, replacing the sorrowful songs that constantly run through his mind. The same songs that can only escape from his incessant playing of the organ.

He has risked too much to make her see him for something other than a monster. She could easily have woken up earlier; he could have lost her forever. The more he tells her about this place, the more he scares her away. His world is too dreadful for the likes of her. She will never accept him for who he is. There is no need to try anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

"Things have gone from bad to worse!" Liliana sputters angrily at her crustacean friend, Spot. "He refuses to admit that I am captive here, and now he tells me I am to turn into a hideous creature the same way he did!" Her hand covers her forehead in desperation as she paces the room. "Oh, if I don't calm myself, surely I will suffer from the vapors."

Her bottom lands hard on the wooden floor. She needs her hand to support the weight of her head. Well, at least she has the freedom to move now, she thinks to herself. Breeches allow for much more comfort. _Men are so fortunate!_

"Stupid men!" She hisses bitterly. "They always get the better deal in life. And apparently so in the afterlife. I'm telling you, Spot, if that bloody captain ever lets me die and reincarnation exists; I am coming back as a man!"

"If ye come back as a man, then ye will have to do a man's job here on the ship."

Jones' voice causes her to jump slightly, but her anger still boils deep within her. "Spying on me again, are we, captain? You always seem to pop in at the most opportune time. For yourself…"

His footsteps shake the floorboards beneath her as he walks to where she sits. "I have no need to spy. Apparently I own ye, so I can do whatever I want!" Jones sends a hateful look to the little crab and it scurries off into the darkness.

Liliana rolls her eyes in disgust. "So you finally admit that I am your prisoner?"

"Ye were the one to say it, not I." Jones rasps harshly. "Ye are the one with the foolish notion that I actually want ye here!"

The girl spins around and glares at the captain. He towers above her but she shows no fear to the bitter stare he sends her. "Would you make up your bloody mind already? Why the hell did you save me then? For the love of all things sacred!"

"Such vulgarity!"

"You swear all the time…" Liliana mumbles, looking to the floor. She has decided to be as spiteful as possible.

"That is me! I am a man! And a sailor."

"Well, I am on a ship. Therefore, I must be a sailor too. Therefore, I must be allowed to swear just like every other soul aboard this ship."

"Bah! Ye are no sailor! And ye do not have the bollocks like the rest of us to allow for such language!"

Again she rolls her eyes. Jones sees this and swats the hand out from underneath her chin, causing her to fall forward.

"Must you yell at me in here?" She hisses up at him.

Jones looks around the room in shock. "I own this cabin! I can yell at ye wherever I choose, woman!" His voice rises to a higher level.

"This is the only place of solace that I have! You allow me no other private space. Why can't you just leave me be while I am in here?"

"No one else on this ship has a place to hide! Why do ye assume ye would get such a luxury! And need I remind ye again, that this is MY cabin! In fact, YE are the one encroaching on my privacy!" He yells into her face, his hand pounding on his chest to prove the point.

"Here we go again. You're the one that saved me. So this is YOUR fault, Captain Jones. If you didn't want to share your living space, you shouldn't have rescued me. So you need to figure out why you brought me here, so we can both learn how to live with one another."

His anger is palpable. "I should just toss ye overboard right now, ye insolent little brat! How dare ye speak to me in such a manner? I have told ye that I don't know why I saved your pathetic little ass!"

"Well, surely you did not take me aboard just so that you can have someone else to yell at. I could have sworn there were plenty of others here that already have that joy in their lives…"

Jones loses his patience and grabs her. He pulls her to her feet and shakes her roughly. The crustacean claw clamps tightly on her upper arm, pain shoots through to her body. Ignoring the fear in her eyes, he snarls, "Ye are treading on dangerous ground, missy. Do not assume that ye have any special treatment over anyone else here!"

"You are a monster! A bloody, cold-hearted beast! You have brought me here to torture me, there is no other reason! Just be off with me already! Hell would be a thousand times better than being stuck here with you! I hate you!"

A sharp stab of pain catches Jones in the chest. His grip loosens and the girl writhes free. "No…" He mumbles to himself, his blank stare unable to follow her as she races for the door. Motionless, her words wound him deeper than he ever thought possible. "I did not mean…"

"Leave me be! You do not care for me! Do not pretend that you do!" Without thought she exits the cabin, leaving the emotionally crippled captain behind.

Blinded by the burning tears that form on her eyelids, Liliana races out into the sunlight. Breathless, she slams into the side rail, gasping for air as angry words sputter from her lips. Below her, the water splits underneath the burdensome weight of the ship. She is sailing at an incredible speed; surely the waves would carry her away if she jumped off.

"Fucking bastard!" She yells viciously, not sure where the swearing is coming from. But the words spew from her mouth naturally as if she were commenting about the weather.

Suddenly, a cold chill creeps up her spine once she realizes where she is. A hard knot rolls over in the pit of her stomach. Her body begins to tremble as she realizes she is not alone on deck. She can feel the burning gaze of many probing eyes upon her. She swallows hard at the feeling of pure evil surrounding her from every angle. Perhaps she was safer with the captain.

"Looks like we have a stowaway!" A sinister voice cackles from behind, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end.

A chorus of malevolent laughter springs up around her. Liliana digs her fingernails into the wooden rail, desperate for something to hold on to, for something to protect her. A cold hand makes contact with her arm and spins her around to face her nightmare. A scream tries to escape from her throat, but is unable to find its way past her horror.

Before her, a group of horrifically malformed, mutated bodies and forsaken souls. Like their captain, they too are encrusted with sea life. The wretched beings are comprised of barnacles, shells, seaweed and even a ship's wood and iron. The putrid smell of fish makes her gag. Their hideous faces make her want to run, but her feet seem firmly planted to the deck. Should she call to the captain? Would he save her?

No, of course not. He is one of them.

"So dis be da prize da capt'n be hiding." One of the monsters speaks for all. "No wonder 'e wants 'er all to 'imself!"

Trying to escape, Liliana jerks her arm around but is unable to break free from the grasp of her attacker. Her voice shakes with fear as she cries aloud, "unhand me!"

Another ghastly beast steps forward, running a slime-covered hand through her hair. "Shh, love. Do ye know how long it has been since we've had the pleasure of a live woman's company?" His words are soft but reek of malice. He leans forward and inhales the smell of her hair. "Hmmm, 'tis a good one lads!"

Bile begins to rise up in her throat as she realizes their intentions. They begin to swarm around her, hands grasping and pulling on her helpless body. One hand grasps her shirt and tears it open half way, exposing her cleavage. The scream that was building up within her now lurches out of her lungs. "Let me go!"

Her tear-filled eyes scan their disfigured faces. Each carries a sinister and disturbing smile. Liliana closes her eyes tight and sends out a prayer, begging for this to be over quickly. There is no escaping this. Just pray…

An ear piercing growl bellows from behind the group. She opens her eyes to see the majority of the group fleeing in every direction. They scream and holler for mercy as a blurred mass of writhing tentacles pins them to the deck.

Liliana's hope is restored by the sight of the captain now viciously battering her assailants. Without thought, she calls out his Christian name, "Davy!"

His eyes meet hers and the same anger is displaced upon her, "get inside! NOW!"

She does not question his authority. She quickly disappears into the bowels of the ship, seeking the safety of the captain's cabin.

Once he sees that she is safe, another blood curdling scream emits from the depths inside him. "All of ye will suffer for this! Bosun, I want every man responsible to receive one hundred lashes and then it is the rack for each of them for three days! No one will rest tonight lest ye want to be keelhauled!" The captain's rage boils over as he gives a violent kick to one of the crewman he knocked over. "I want wounds! I want broken bones! I want cold blood spilled on this deck!"

He storms away, readying himself to tear into the girl. He blasts through the door and finds her on the floor, sobbing. Her shirt is torn, exposing the same shoulder she playfully flashed to him the other day. Her porcelain skin is scratched, some areas weep with traces of blood. Unable to control his anger, he bitterly mutters, "Serves ye right for not listening to me."

Her head lifts off the floor, exposing the tears that streak down her face. In the mayhem, she received a gash to her lip. It now drips heavily with blood, staining the floor planks beneath her.

His anger subsides at the sight of her turmoil. Jones walks over to her and kneels down. He sighs at the startled jump she makes when he reaches for her chin. "I told ye to stay in here, did I not?"

"Leave me alone, monster!" Liliana hollers, blood splattering on his hand from her injured lip.

"I am fairly certain ye would not want that." Jones snickers to himself. "Ye are scraped up but nothing worse…nothing worse happened, did it?"

"No…" She whispers without looking into his face.

He stands and walks over to the large trunk full of various items. He quickly returns with a cloth and once again kneels before her. A painful position for him to be in, he ignores the cramping of his leg muscles as he grasps her chin again.

Applying the cloth to her lip, he ignores the fear in her eyes. "There. It is only minor. Ye will survive, I do believe. Now, ye have to promise me that ye will obey me from now on."

Liliana takes the cloth and holds it to her mouth. "I will."

A smile forms on Jones' lips. "Ye called me by name. Now the crew will definitely think we are up to something."

"You said the crew didn't know I was here!" She lashes out angrily, not appreciating his attempt at humor.

Jones' shrugs nonchalantly. "I can't hide everything from them. They were bound to figure it out." He pauses as he realizes what she needs to hear from him, something he is completely unaccustomed to doing. "I am sorry for yelling at ye."

Liliana just glares at him.

"Look, ye should accept it. It's not very often that I apologize. Once a century it may happen, if you're lucky. Ye may be the first person I've apologized to on this ship."

"Oh, I am so very lucky…" She snaps.

"Am I forgiven?" He sends her an evil grin, one of a child trying to get away with a naughty deed.

She considers his actions for a few moments and finally comes to a conclusion. "Well, you did rescue me from those dreadful monsters. So I guess I have no choice." Her voice escapes as a harsh grumble. She pauses and looks into his eyes. They are finally soft and hold a trace of compassion in the deep pools of vivid blue. "Thank you, captain."

Jones stands again and snickers. "Think nothing of it. They would have torn ye apart. And I must admit that I am looking forward to the food ye plan on creating."

"You expect me to go back out there after that?" She desperately crawls towards him.

"I will assign you a guard. No one will mess with ye now. Especially since they will each get a taste of my wrath for what occurred." He examines her one last time before heading towards the door. His spine is tingling, his blood flowing faster for the thrill of torturing those who tried to harm her. "Now stay in here until ye are called upon, Miss Liliana. I can't be watching ye forever. And when I come back, I expect a proper apology from ye."

He closed the door before she could reprimand him. Why on earth would he expect her to apologize? Suddenly she felt the crushing emptiness around her. He left her there to waste away in her misery on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Standing alone in the cloud-darkened moonlight, Jones takes a deep breath and fills his lungs to full capacity. His eyes close as he exhales heavily to release the stress within. His breath forms a slight mist in the chilled night air.

Deep within the recesses of his tortured mind, he lashes out at himself. The pain it inflicts almost feels enjoyable, like an old friend he has come to admire even though that friend abuses him. His melancholy is inviting, he does not know life without it. Pain is the only feeling he welcomes.

How could her words have hurt him so? Why should her feelings matter? It's not like he's never been hated before. He should be accustomed to it by now. But the hatred is from her, the last person on this earth he wants rejection from. So it matters.

He shakes his head with anger, causing his heavy beard to sway back and forth like waves upon the shore. She is a woman, why would he think she was any different from any other? They are all fickle, he thinks bitterly to himself. They love and leave.

Humanity always causes a boiling rage within his soul. Its mere existence is enough for him to want to eliminate every being on this planet, especially at this very moment. Humans cannot be trusted. They all lie just to get what they need. But then again, so do heathen gods.

Dammit all to hell! He does not want to think about her now! This is all her fault, wretched creature that she is! Somewhere, she must be laughing at his pain. He can only hope that he hurt her enough in the end to make his suffering worthwhile.

From below deck, he can hear the agonized screams of those involved in today's mayhem with the girl. Music to his ears! Another wave of bubbling rage boils throughout him when the image of her terrified face enters his mind.

Once again his lips could not control the words escaping his mouth. He lashed out at her for disobeying. At times, he feels he was correct to do so. But he cannot help but think that he let her down by allowing them to harm her. He had allowed it because of the pain she caused him. He knew what their reaction to a young woman would be. But her desperate scream is what forced him out of the hurt caused by her stinging words.

"Why did I save her?" Jones moans to himself, now looking up to the sky. There will be no answer from above. He abandoned God centuries ago, and God abandoned him. He looks back out to the empty horizon. Empty. That is exactly how he feels. Perhaps he even deserves it.

But here is this girl who is made of pure goodness. Jones can see an evil being when he looks one. They are clouded with a dark haze; it permeates to their very soul. But this girl glows bright. She does not belong here like the rest of them. But even his victims with brightness eventually turn black after spending time aboard this ship. She will no doubt turn dark.

The sight of her crying there on the cold, damp floor caused the empty cavity within his chest to ache. Almost as much as when this same girl spoke words of hatred to him. How he had wanted to pick her up and hold her in his arms, just to make her pain go away. He longed to have her warmth next to his chilled existence. Maybe then he could capture some of her light. Perhaps she would have continued to cry and he could have run his fingers through her hair to calm her. He could have told her that he was here now, that no one will ever harm her again.

The thick clouds hanging morosely above his head now split open and a heavy deluge of rain beats down upon him. He watches as her dried blood on his hands starts to melt away with the water. In this he feels she is leaving him. No, she was never his. And after witnessing his rage, she never will be now.

Liliana listens to the rain splattering on the window pane outside. A flash of lightning illuminates the darkened room for a fleeting second and then she is bathed in blackness again.

She has not left the comfort and protection of the bed since he left her this afternoon. She may never leave it. She had started to trust the captain, now that is all but destroyed. Liliana has been in his presence for over a fortnight; his true colors were blindingly obvious today. Those tender eyes he has shown her in the past were nothing but trickery.

She jumps to the sound of his heavy footsteps approaching the door. Pulling the blanket up around her head, she closes her eyes tight to block out the image of him. He will leave her alone if he thinks she is asleep.

The door opens, making its usual screeching metal sound. Through her closed eyelids, she can sense the light of a lantern. It moves about with every step he takes. Then silence. Her heart begins to race as she questions if she should open her eyes to locate him. Her ears catch the faint sound of a sigh and then more heavy steps.

Ever slightly, she pries open one eyelid to check where he is standing. He has his back to her, head hanging low. He stands before the organ, not making a move.

She opens both eyes now to examine his shadowed form. He has been in the rain, water drips off him in streams. Puddles leave a trail, marking where he has been. This man that usually seems so proud is now overwhelmingly forlorn.

The captain places the lantern next to the organ and removes his hat. Quietly, he places it on the table beside him. Next, he begins to peel off the heavy overcoat that is saturated with rain. He takes care to hang it on one of the large standing corals, allowing for it to dry during the night.

Liliana watches in amazement as the next articles of clothing are stripped away. Beads of water lay exposed on the broad curvature of his shoulders. His back is long, built of solid strength. He turns slightly and she shuts her eyes tight.

Unable to resist this glimpse of the foreign male form, she again opens a single eye ever so slightly. Her heart begins to pound at the sight of his sculptured abdomen, rippling with taut muscles, shining with a glow of damp rain dancing on his skin. The bicep of his human arm flexes and extends as it reaches to hang up his shirt. His beard wisps along the broad hills of his muscular chest. In the shadows, she can make out a taut nipple. And then the other one. And then a ragged scar appears and then vanishes quickly.

He is lean, but he is strongly built. She stifles a pleasured gasp when she notices that the breeches laden with sea life now hang low around his hips. His waist is carved to perfection, indented lines along his hip bones, a symbol of pure male sexuality. A belly button is innocently placed amidst the flat plane of his lower half. She feels the strong desire to run her fingers over that flesh. She knows she should not be watching this, but cannot turn away. Unexplained desire courses through her veins.

Again she is forced to close her eyes as he moves about the room. He finally settles on the organ bench, his usual nightly resting spot. Another heavy sigh and the light from the lantern is extinguished.

Her eyes pop open and she cannot keep the smile from forming on her lips. Her heart still beats strongly with the accompanying image of his bare torso burnt into her memory. What is this she is feeling? Could it possibly be…attraction…to the captain? No, it cannot be so!

But that body, that body showed her a glimpse of his human remnants. It's as if his face no longer matters. Underneath that savage beard is a man. And what a man, she thinks excitedly to herself. Her mind races to what must be beneath those breeches. A little giggle escapes from her throat and her hand clutches her mouth when she hears him shift in the darkness. Such impropriety to be thinking about the captain's naughty bits! Not ladylike at all! But she is free of the harsh criticism of society now. Perhaps it isn't so bad to think this to oneself.

She waves her hand over her face in an attempt to cool herself. Oh, this is not good! Just earlier today he was yelling at her as if she were a child. The man has a fierce temper, he cannot be fully trusted. How can she possibly feel this way for a man like that? A flash of exposed flesh enters her mind again. He does have a nice body, she confirms to herself with a shrug. Leave it to me to be attracted to a squid man.

The heat escaping from her body does not match his and she knows it. He must be terribly cold with his damp skin exposed to the humid air. She fights the urge to rise and walk over to hold him to keep him warm.

She will not get a moment's sleep if his sculptured form does not leave her mind. And what will she do to hide her knowledge of his body in the morning?

She opens her eyes to an empty room. "Oh, thank goodness. I can't imagine how I would possibly face him after last night." Liliana mumbles to herself with a hand over her heart.

"Ready to apologize, Miss Liliana?" His voice trails from a shadowed corner. He chuckles loudly to her startled reaction. "Ye appear to be blushing, miss, something the matter?"

"You need to stop scaring me like this." She blurts out, but stops herself before adding 'and walking around half naked in my presence.'

"No. I fancy how ye jump. Now apologize."

"For what purpose and reason?" Liliana can sense his jovial mood through the darkness. Perhaps this is a good way for her to get over her frayed nerves of seeing his exposed torso. Perhaps a little tormenting will further distract her from the searing image of his rippling muscles.

"For being insolent. For not listening to me. For being arrogant!" He grumbles from the shadows. The last half of his statement rings of sarcasm.

"Very well. I see that you have a point to make." Her voice turns to the same sarcastic tone he used. "I'm very, very sorry."

"Ye do not mean that! That's not good enough!" The chair he sits in creaks loudly as he leans forward in frustration.

"Tell me why I should apologize to you again?" She snickers.

He stands and storms over to her. A part of her is disappointed to see him fully clothed again. She is perfectly aware that this rage is a bluff. She saw the real thing yesterday and now knows the difference. He's toying with her as much as she is.

He waves an accusing finger in her face. "Listen, squirt, do not press me on the issue."

"Squirt?" She gasps, "Are you saying I am short?"

Jones snorts with pleasure. "At best, ye may come up to my knee."

"Well, yes, compared to you, I am short. But haven't you heard that good things come in small packages?"

"Good? There'll be no good on my ship!" Jones pauses and looks at her from the corner of his eye. "Besides, there is very little good to ye."

"Oh, am I a disappointment, sir? I guess this brings us back to why we had our disagreement yesterday. Just be rid of me already." She stands and walks over to face him. "And, look, I reach your chest." She uses her index finger to poke him harshly in the sternum. "But you cannot and will not be rid of me."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jones snickers as he steps back from her.

"You would have done it already. And you did save me yesterday, to which I did properly thank you. Why, it's as if you want me here…"

"I don't need ye!"

"I didn't say need, I said want, sir."

"I don't want ye either!" Jones' temper finally catches up with the conversation.

"Very well then, prove it." Liliana folds her arms and secretly hopes she is not pushing him too far.

His head tilts to the side as if he is trying to understand her motives. "Ye know, ye are a real pain in the ass. And ye still have yet to apologize!"

"I'm sorry. Though I am not sure why."

He feigns disinterest by looking down at his remaining fingernails for dirt. "If ye don't know why ye should be sorry, then I am not telling ye."

"You sound like a woman!" Liliana emits a bubbly laugh.

"Then ye must understand what I mean." He sends her a serious glance now, growing tired of waiting for her apology.

She takes his hand and squeezes tight. She fights back laughter at the shocked look upon his face. "Dear Captain Jones! I implore your forgiveness and promise no more shall I cross you in any way!"

"Now ye are just bully-ragging me." He rips his hand out of her grip. "Ye were quite malicious to me yesterday."

"As you were to me." She folds her arms tightly, hardly believing she is getting away with this.

"And yet, I was mature enough to apologize!"

"Well, you do have a couple of centuries on me and that would add up maturity wise."

Jones' eyes narrow as his brow comes together. "Ye are making fun of my age now? Ye are enough to drive a man to drink!"

She turns her back to him and walks away. "Face it, captain. You put up with me because you are willing to. In fact, I believe you like having someone to stand up to you. You're not used to having someone fight back and it intrigues you. You've met your match in me!" She turns around to smile at him but the shocked look on his face tells her he took the last part of her statement the wrong way.

"Intellectually, Captain. Intellectually." Her cheeks begin to blush again as the vivid reminder of his bare body floats through her mind once more. "But sincerely, I apologize for saying what I did."

"There. Now if I can train ye to do that in less time then I will be all set." He nods, "I expect ye to start repaying me for my services soon. There is food waiting to be cooked and I have set up a guard for ye. I will stay close by if need be, but when ye are out there, ye will mostly be on your own."

The terrifying memory of yesterday's ordeal causes her to shudder. Walking back over to him, she looks up into his eyes, "Please, captain. Don't leave me alone out there. I may not always show it, but I do need you."

Unable to control the gesture, he presses a finger to the tip of her nose. Her vulnerability reminds him of a young child who is lost in a crowd. "They will not mess with ye. Not now." A smile brightens his expression and he exits the room.

Her heart starts to flutter as she considers that tender act of kindness. His voice was smooth and soothing; he wanted to placate her concern. This man does not seem as terrifying when he shows this rare kindness. There are so many layers to this man, he is so incredibly complicated. He is like a mystery to her, one that she feels the need to solve. If she could only get him to be like he is today, on a daily basis, maybe she will find more about him that she likes.

She cannot help but admit that she now recognizes him as her savior. There is something inside that man that she is growing to appreciate. He has devoted himself to her care for no real reason and seems to revel in tormenting her to make her laugh. Perhaps he deserves a second chance.


	9. Chapter 9

Early morning greets the _Flying Dutchman_ with massive rolling waves and howling winds from the north. The unusually cold gale bites at exposed skin with a savagery many are not accustomed to. The sun lay exposed from the clouds in a taunting gesture, only providing light and barely any comforting heat. Waves slam mercilessly into the ship from every direction, spewing across the deck and over the other side. Items that could be lost to the sea have been tied down for security, including the crewmen themselves. The bow hits each crest with massive force, thrusting her upwards in a violent manner. Stomachs sink to the depths as she plummets down into the base of another monstrous wave.

If Liliana's stomach had been full, it wouldn't have stayed that way for long. The nausea forced her to bed early. She decided being tied down to the bed was a proper idea if she was to get a moment's rest. Unwilling to undergo the captain's scrutiny, she tied the rope as tightly as she could before he came in for the night. She heard him laughing quietly to himself when he finally entered the room.

This morning, even he has braced himself against the fury of nature. His furniture is bolted to the floor, so it does not move about in stormy weather, but that doesn't mean he himself would not be tossed around in the fray. His crustacean arm clutches the table leg every time the bow points toward the sky. Even the weathered captain's stomach is twisting and writhing today, clouding his already foul mood. Reading his maps and writing in the log book does not help the situation any. The words blur and clump together as his eyes water from the nausea. He hasn't been sea sick since he first set foot on a ship in Scotland centuries ago, but today might be the day to end that long held record.

Accustomed to the violence of a life at sea, the Captain takes this storm with a grain of salt. Beyond the sea itself, there were far more pressing dangers that he had learned to overcome over the years. Sometimes, your greatest enemy is another human being. He had fought against ruthless pirates back when he was a merchant sailor, protecting his precious cargo with ever fibre of his being. He had seen his valuable and sometimes irreplaceable crewmen press ganged and murdered before his eyes in battles aboard his very own deck. It still amazes him to this day how spices and rum can be worth more than a human life to some.

How he loathes pirates and their ruthless ways. He ignores the similarities between them and himself now, not wanting to seem hypocritical to himself.

The course he sails now is still as dangerous as it was back when he was mortal. There are still thieving pirates, there are still vicious wretches that are more than willing to end his immortality to gain in their own interest. That is why he must remain steadfast, to never show weakness to the enemy. Everyone is his enemy now, he lives for himself alone. No one can be trusted.

He looks over to the girl who sleeps heavily through the tossing. He had decided to try a new tactic with her yesterday. Instead of raging on her - his normal practice - he chose to comfort her during her anguish. This new plan seems to have worked well; she let her guard down ever so slightly. Just the simple act of pressing his finger to her nose caused her to relax, to trust his judgment. He turns back to the table, unable to fight back a smile forming on his lips. He cannot help but admit that he enjoys arguing with her, as she had so boldly exclaimed. Their jovial sparring match released small amounts of buried stress from deep within him; perhaps she isn't so useless after all.

He often ponders the effects this young woman has upon him. Pain and anguish have been two emotions he has not been able to flee from over the years. But this girl causes new and foreign sensations to puddle deep inside his hollow depths. Does he actually, perhaps, enjoy the girl's company? He has laughed in her presence, something he would never do with anyone else, unless it was at their expense. But no, he derives pleasure from her mere existence. Her smile seems to brighten his day. But how can that be so? Since his betrayal, he has led a very misogynistic lifestyle. But she escapes his hatred as if she were granted permission by the heathen Gods themselves. How very odd.

He turns back to his log book. She has handled the weather quite remarkably, he notes on a page already cramped with his scribbled writing. Lately, most of his log entries have included this fascinating creature known as Liliana. She is a much more interesting topic than latitude and longitude or the goings on of his crew.

She must be accustomed to marine voyages for she has her sea legs. I would reckon she has spent some time on the waves. The ship she was on must have been sailing for a few weeks for her to be able to float so smoothly across the deck. Thankfully, she is rid of that enticing gown. I could not stand another minute of watching that skirt sway back and forth with every step, mimicking how her hips must move underneath.

His claw grasps the table instinctively as the ship pitches forward into another wave. A frantic call bellows from outside, announcing a rogue wave off the port bow.

"Shit!" Jones swears aloud and lies flat against the table. The ship jerks violently on to her side. More profanity is emitted amongst the mayhem, but this time not from the captain. Jones turns his head to see the girl now flying out of her slumber and being slammed hard onto the wooden floor. Unable to control himself, he smirks as she rolls on by him, his head following the path she travels.

_Thud._

_Thunk._

_Thump._

"Looks like your ingenious plan has failed ye, miss." Jones laughs cruelly, noting the untied rope. "Be it that ye do not understand the fundamentals of knot tying?"

Liliana glares at him as the ship rights itself to its proper position. "It worked for the majority." She hisses foully under her breath.

"Hmm, and yet, ye still ended up flopping around on the floor like a baited fish."

"Oww…" Liliana mumbles as she rubs her elbows. Her fumbled journey across the floor has left them raw and bleeding. "Why must I bleed so much while aboard this evil ship?"

"What is with ye now?" Jones turns back to his maps, concealing the passage he had just written about her in his log book. She must never learn the truth about how he sees her. She would never understand.

"I have splinters." She mutters like a scorned child who has been placed in a corner. "Ouch!" She yelps at a vain attempt to remove them.

"Poor lass. Mayhap I should kiss them better?"

Liliana picks up on the sarcasm in his voice, and does not appreciate it. "You are such a foul man. You torment me when I hurt!"

"Would ye prefer I coo and coddle over ye like a spoiled infant?" He smiles at her negative expression. "I thought not…come here."

"No. I don't appreciate your pathetic attempt at sympathy."

"I said come here! Let me look at it."

Reluctantly, she climbs to her feet and clumsily approaches him through the rocking motion of the ship. She jumps slightly when he grasps her wrist with his cold, moist hand. Even his touch swarms with death. Her eyes follow his movement as he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small bottle.

"Wh...What is that?" She questions him wearily.

"A poultice.'Twill help with the pain at least. The splinters will eventually work their way out of your skin." He notices how tense her arm is. "I can safely assume ye will not allow me to remove them."

"Will it hurt?"

"What?" He does not look up from the bottle he now examines for freshness. His fingers are still wrapped tightly around her wrist, making sure she cannot get away.

"Will that concoction of yours hurt? Will it sting?" She cringes as he reaches forward to place it on her arm. The strong tang of tar greets her nostrils.

"Nigh. Ye are strong, ye can handle it." He grumbles as his poultice-smothered fingers run smoothly over her abrasions, trying not to hurt her with the roughness of his hands. His senses tingle from the closeness of her body and the feminine plumpness of her flesh. If only he could touch her more often.

"Bloody hell! That does sting!" Prying her arm free, she shrieks as she backs away from him, her arm burning as if it were placed in wood stove.

"And dancing around like that helps it how?" Jones chuckles as she spins around flapping her arm in the air in a vain attempt to still the searing pain. "Now ye look like a drunken seagull with a broken wing. Your animal impersonations are really quite entertaining, miss. Can ye be a seal next?"

She stops in her tracks to send him another vicious stare as her patience runs out with this evil man. To hell with propriety! "No, but I can certainly play the role of a bitch!"

Another wave slams into the starboard side of the ship. Liliana loses her balance and flies forward into the captain's arms. She lands with force onto his chest, having no time to brace herself with her hands. Instead, her arms end up wrapped around the thickness of his neck and beard, her plump breast pressed into the flat planes of his hardened body. Her face almost touching his, his breath dancing along her skin, a rush of blood flows into her cheeks as she gazes into the azure pools of his eyes. The seconds that pass feel like minutes for both of them.

Instinctively his arms went around her body, saving her from the fall. Tentacles raveled around her arms, holding them in place on his muscular shoulders. Realizing that his hand had protectively covered her rump by accident, he removes it quickly. The heat from her body radiates through him and causes his stagnant blood to suddenly and inexplicably flow through his veins. If his heart was still in his chest, it would be beating erratically now.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" Liliana mumbles breathlessly, now blushing uncontrollably as she feels the puckering of each suction cup that is pulling gently on her skin.

"The wave…it was the wave…" Jones replies nervously as he helps her to stand.

"Yes, thank you." She watches in amazement as the thick tentacles slide off her arms and fall limply back in place on his chest. "For catching me."

"Couldn't let ye fall, miss." Jones clears his rasping throat. "What were we arguing about again?" He says in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"It doesn't matter, now." She smiles while covering her cheek with her hand to hide her obvious blushing. Her mind races with the feel of the masculine body that was beneath her. That same body she secretly witnessed disrobed the other night, water dripping from his skin, strongly male yet sweetly vulnerable. That flat, chiseled stomach felt like she thought it would, even under the layers of vest and shirt. Enticing, longing to be caressed. He smells of the sea, brine and sunlight with a hint of rugged maleness.

He intuitively reaches out for her as she stumbles with another crashing wave. This time she braces herself by clutching the solid form of his crustacean claw with both hands. "Perhaps ye should go back to rest. There will be no need of ye flying about. When the storm settles, ye can thank me for my generosity by preparing a meal with the victuals we have collected from a recent harvest."

She hears his teasing words but they float past her as her eyes examine the claw in her hands. She notes the thick heaviness of it, it must weigh at least two stones. He must be incredibly strong to carry this massive growth around, she thinks in awe. Her fingers tenderly run over the surface, learning where he is smooth and where there are small bumps and lines. She looks up when she feels the perplexity of his stare upon her face. "My apologies, Captain Jones. Here I am gawking at you without your permission. But I wonder, can you feel this?" She looks back to the deep maroon claw and runs a single fingertip along its length.

_I can certainly feel you_. He swallows hard. "Nigh, it has very little feeling now."

"Did it hurt?" Her deep russet eyes stare fondly into his guarded soul.

"Becoming this way? Aye." He sighs deeply. "It still does from time to time."

She nods, still running her fingers over his arm, now smiling at the realization that he has not tried to stop her from touching him. "If I am to become like you, I hope I can be as strong." She pauses to enjoy the puzzled look upon his wrinkled face. "I don't believe you deserve your fate, Captain Jones."

He finally removes his clawed arm from her tender grasp. "What makes ye think that?"

Turning around, she walks carefully back to the bed and snugly ties the rope around her waist again. Covering her body with the blanket, she sprawls on her side and closes her eyes. "I just believe it, is all. Wake me when you want me to start the meal."

The Captain remains there in his seat, completely perplexed by this girl. The ship creaks and groans with the stress of the storm outside, the crew can be heard bellowing over the onslaught of crashing waves. But above all this surrounding chaos, a sound can be heard from deep inside the Captain himself. It forms as a twitch in his human arm and it catches his attention. He looks down at the impossible sight of what he has not seen in centuries. The underside of his wrist now has a small beating nodule just below his palm.

He stares in amazement at the return of his pulse.


	10. Chapter 10

Liliana waits anxiously for the Captain to return with her newly assigned personal bodyguard. As she waits, she nervously picks at the remainders of her once beautifully manicured fingernails, now broken and cracked and uneven in length. She had pleaded with the Captain that he should be her protector, for she trusts no other soul aboard this God forsaken ship.

The Captain vowed that he would watch over her when he could, but his duties would keep him away from her during the majority of the day. He stubbornly claimed she needs to learn how to fit in on this ship and that she can no longer hide in his cabin. He told her that he fully understands that she requires lighter handling because she is a genteel young woman, but she must prove herself worthy as a worker all the same.

Jones swore to her that the man he chose to be her bodyguard would not fail in his duty. That he is a man that can be trusted.

Liliana will make that judgment for herself.

The door swings open and two shadowy figures appear. She instantly recognizes the distinct peaks of the Captain's hat, but the massive shadow behind him is foreign. Backing up towards the wall, she grips the handle of a knife she concealed in her pocket. A gulley the Captain gave to her moments earlier, in case things got out of hand.

"No need for apprehension, miss. That gulley is not needed at this time. Now, I expect ye to do as ye are commanded and to prepare a meal worth consuming, aye?" Jones announces as he strides casually into the faintly sunlit room. His face is stern but his eyes give away a faint hint of apprehension for her well-being. He is all too familiar with the intentions his crew has for the innocent girl and would not wish that sort of thing on any woman.

Liliana nods and her eyes instinctively travel over to the form that still remains hidden in the shadows.

Jones steps toward the girl and then turns his back to make the introduction. "Miss Liliana, my first mate, Maccus. He will watch over ye when I am not able to."

The shadowed man shuffles into the light. Liliana gasps and darts behind the Captain, who quickly grabs her and pulls her forward. The harsh look he sends her is one of annoyance and intolerance.

"You must not leave me with him!" She yells aloud. Liliana turns to examine the man she is expected to trust, but his savage appearance causes pure terror to boil within her. She glares at him with hatred and scrutiny. His head has been deformed into the shape of a hammerhead shark, revulsion for the girl apparent in his remaining human eye. A vicious creature he resembles and therefore must be, she notes to herself harshly. He too is overflowing with an abundance of virulent sea life. Crustacean claws are also forming, somewhat similar to the Captain's, but still retaining jagged fingers. She notes with disgust and horror that more crustacean legs are writhing between his shoulder blades and reaching out from the back of his arm.

She turns back to the only person she feels she can trust. "Please," she whispers up to the Captain, sending him a look of absolute despair, "Please don't leave me with him."

Feeling the sudden, inappropriate desire to comfort her, he instead decides it would be best to prove to his crew that she is no different from anyone else. "Ye will do as I say." He grumbles harshly and pushes her toward Maccus. "I expect my meal to be served during the first dog watch." Jones pushes his way past his first mate and exits swiftly, leaving the girl alone with this strange man.

"What? What is the first dog watch?" Liliana nervously eyes Maccus.

"To hell if I tell ya! Yer on a ship now, 'tis yer job to figure out our routine." Maccus growls angrily and turns to follow his superior.

"You are supposed to help me, sir!"

Maccus turns around and glares at her with his remaining human eye. He hisses through his dagger teeth, "let us get one thing straight, miss. I do not assist ye. We all had to learn the hard way. Ye will do the same. If ye piss off the Captain, it is yer fault. My job is to make sure the crew doesn't harm ye. But that does not include stopping discipline from the Captain, which I am hoping ye see plenty of. Ye will learn yer place just like the rest of us have." He waves a dismissive hand in her face. "Personally, I don't care if the crew gets a hold of ye."

Liliana's defenses rise to his verbal attack. "Then you must not mind disobeying the orders of your Captain!"

"Ye are supposed to obey me, and I am now telling ye to shut yer trap! There is no room for trouble makers aboard this ship!" Maccus pauses and stares harshly down at her. "No room for harlots either."

"How dare you? How dare you assume that I am here to satisfy the carnal needs of the Captain?" Liliana storms over to the man, standing on her toes to make herself appear taller.

"Then what are ye here for?"

"Perhaps that is a question best answered by Captain Jones himself!"

The idea of discussing the Captain's decision to keep the girl makes the first mate's skin crawl. It would be the quickest way to a disciplinary backhand or worse. "Ye will follow me to the galley, miss." Maccus turns his back and doesn't wait, expecting her to follow behind.

She gets a sharp reprimand when he does not hear her footsteps behind him. Arms folded, she shuffles along behind him, grumbling her resentment filled words silently to herself. The bright sunlight harshly beams down her when she steps out on the quarterdeck, but through her squinting eyes, she can see all work has ceased and every human and fish eye alike are all fixated on her presence.

"Get back to work, ye filthy blackguards!" A man holding a whip shouts from above. He quickly storms over to a man and smacks him upside the head, causing his hat to fall to the deck.

The fear intensifies within her and she quickly catches up with the impatient first mate. As they walk, she can hear their words of hatred being carried along the ocean breeze. _Harlot. Whore. Bitch_. All said low enough to be missed by the Captain, but loud enough to be heard by the object of their abhorrence.

At first, she feels like running back to where she was hiding for the last few weeks, to allow the tears that now form on the rims of her eyelids to fall heavily down her cheeks. Their words of sadistic judgment burn her to the core. Until she catches the eye of one man who looks at her as if he feels great sorrow for her situation. Seeing she may have some support there, she straightens her back, blinks back the tears and acts as if their words flow right past her. They must not know her weaknesses; they must not see her fear. She must prove to the Captain that she can do this. Most importantly, she has to prove it to herself.

"The galley, miss." Maccus states flatly when coming to an abrupt stop in front of a closed door.

Liliana looks back to the man and sees that he is making his way towards her. She turns to Maccus and sends him a curt smile. "Thank you, sir. I will be fine from here."

Maccus rolls his eyes and storms away as if he cannot stand another second in her presence. He immediately begins yelling at a slacking crew member.

"It must be his talent." Liliana mutters to herself.

"Aye, he's quite fond of raising his voice." The man who had sent his pity to her was now standing by her side. He speaks in a soothing voice when he notices her apprehension towards him. "Do not fear, miss. I mean you no harm."

"You are about the only one."

"My name is Bill Turner. But they call me Bootstrap." The weathered man sends her a genuine smile in an attempt to calm her fears. "What is your name, young miss?"

"Liliana." She utters softly, her arms finally falling to her side. This man seems gentle in spirit and she feels as if she can let her guard down in front of him. "Looks like my bodyguard has run off." Liliana looks past the man to Maccus who now storms off in the opposite direction.

"Aye. But if there is a hint of trouble, he will respond quickly. If I may say so, Miss Liliana, you seem out of place here. Rumor has it that you are high society. Not to mention being the lone women here."

"I am most definitely out of place, Mr. Bootstrap." Liliana chuckles, her anxiety escaping with her words. "But I do not recall my past, so I do not know where I belong now."

"Hmm," Bootstrap nods in contemplation, "perhaps that isn't such a bad thing."

"Perhaps. And may I say, sir, you certainly do not seem to fit in here either." She smiles up at the man.

"Aye!" A subtle laugh escapes his lips. "Both of us are pariahs. But the crew, they view women as bad luck aboard a ship. I don't think it is personal."

"I do. I am the reason many of them seem to have fresh wounds on their backsides."

"Well, they deserved it, and there are plenty of ways to get yourself flogged on this ship. It's not their first time and certainly will not be their last."

Liliana looks up at the man who seems to be consumed with grief, even as he smiles. The large starfish above his eye seems to be making an effort take over his face. "Can you tell me what the first dog watch is? The Captain wants his meal by then."

"Ah. Well, the day is broken up into six watches, you see. Each four hours long. Except the dog watches, now those can be two hours in length to accommodate for meals." Bootstrap patiently explains the complexities of nautical time to the girl, who listens intently to his every word. "The Captain wants his supper between four and six in the evening. A bit early for him, he must be famished."

"What am I to make? I don't even know if I can cook! Chances are if I was indeed high society as you say, I cannot!"

"Fear not, Miss Liliana. The recent harvest was prosperous in this regard. We hauled back some salted cod, spices and a goat. Put them together, and you could prepare a very nice chowder."

"Where does the goat come in?"

Bootstrap laughs pleasantly at her sweet naivety. "My dear, the goat provides the milk. Here, I will show you where she has been kept." Bootstrap steps forward and pushes the galley door open. "Be careful where you step."

"Good Lord!" Liliana's hand instinctively covers her heart when she witnesses the mess inside. Cooking utensils are strewn about; benches are dilapidated and knocked over, the dining table and cooking surfaces covered with even more sea life. The room is cool, and smells of mildew and the fresh, pungent odor of goat dung. "How am I to prepare a meal in here?

Bootstrap straightens and turns to face her. "Well, the room is normally well kept, the Captain would never allow for such disarray. The crew demolished it this morning knowing you would be using the space."

"Oh, how considerate of them." Liliana grumbles. Her ears pick up the sound of a soft bleating in a darkened corner. She walks past Bootstrap and her heart warms at the sight of the black and white goat tied to a stack of barrels. Kneeling down, she smiles as the animal places its pink nose into her hands, its hot breath forming a mist in the cool air. Again, it bleats, as if asking where she has been all this time.

"Normally livestock would be kept elsewhere, but this is one of the few watertight rooms aboard the ship. So she'll have to remain in here for now. The barrels behind her contain the fresh water supply, though after so many years of sitting, I wouldn't consider it fresh."

"She is delightful. I shall name her Tess."

"Name her? I do not think that would be a good idea, Miss Liliana."

"Why ever not?" Liliana giggles as the animal begins to nibble on her thumb.

"Because she will eventually become a meal herself." Bootstrap announces softly.

"No!" Liliana's arms protectively wrap around the goat's neck. "She is a resource. Kill her and we have no milk."

"We need meat more than milk."

"You expect me to kill this innocent animal and then cook her? I could never!"

"You will if the Captain commands it." Bootstrap picks up a chair and takes a seat. He pauses and examines the girl carefully. "How is the Captain treating you?"

"I'm not exactly sure. One minute he seems to despise the ground I walk on, the next, he seems to tolerate me considerably well. He's an impossible man to figure out. He has provided me with what I have requested. All in all, he has been relatively tolerable in a brutish sort of way…" the shock upon Bootstrap's face causes her to pause, "I take it this bit of information comes as a surprise to you?"

"Very much so, miss. The Captain is impossible to please. He derives great pleasure out of inflicting pain on those around him. He is a cruel and heartless man." Bootstrap says in a low, steady voice.

"I have witnessed his harsher side, yes, but I see no signs of him being sadistic as you say," Liliana pauses, "He has repeatedly told me that I am not part of his crew as I have sworn no oath to him. Perhaps that is why I am treated differently. Unless it is because I am a woman."

"No, miss. It is the fact that you are a woman which perplexes me. He carries a deep hatred for women; he despises and loathes the fairer sex."

"What ever for?"

Bootstrap shifts, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "'Tis not my place to say. But why don't I help you sort through this mess so the Ol' Man gets his meal on time. That's a private name we call the Captain behind his back, never to his face, now, you hear?" Bootstrap wags a finger at her laughter over the nickname. "You get to milking the goat and I'll get the fire started in the stove. I just hope the wood is dry enough.

"Tess, Mr. Bootstrap, her name is Tess." Liliana announces as she fondles the goat's floppy ears between her fingers. "She's as soft as velvet."

Bootstrap shakes his head, but a smile forces itself into formation at the corners of his mouth. "Your enthusiasm is a welcome change, miss."

After hours spent over a hot stove, Liliana wipes the ashes and sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. She is brimming with pride over the cod stew she has prepared. It wasn't all that hard, especially with Bootstrap there to guide her. She had requested he stay by her, for protection and for support. He had done so, even if it meant discipline from his superiors for not following his daily tasks. Bootstrap explained to Liliana that Jones would probably prefer she was taken care of, though he remained perplexed by the Captain's newfound concern for the girl. It just seems so out of place for him, he had mumbled numerous times.

It took a few minutes- and a lot of patience on Tess' behalf- to figure out how to get the milk from the goat's udder. But the creamy fluid eventually made its way out and a small pail was filled. Tess seemed to be relieved to have her udder drained, the pressure finally relieved. She was rewarded for her hard work with a piece of hard tack and some grain that was brought aboard with her during the harvest.

Outside, the sound of a bell ringing eight times announces the end of the afternoon watch. Liliana bends down to stroke Tess' head. "Wish me luck. It's time to feed the Captain."

Not willing to return to the galley and find it in disarray, she locks the door with the key that she had discovered during the cleaning process. Ignoring more heckling, she holds her head high as if the crew is not of significant importance to her. She quickly carries the bowl of steaming cod stew over the deck and into the lantern illuminated halls.

Taking a deep breath, she pauses outside the Captain's cabin to settle her nerves. Her knock is answered by a harsh "enter".

"I understand that it is customary for the Captain to eat alone," she announces as she enters the room, "but you must forgive me if I remain to find out what you think, sir."

She walks over to the table where he now sits. With one hand she sweeps away his map and then places the bowl in front of him. She corrects herself mentally for being so bold as to touch his possessions without his permission, but he doesn't seem to mind. He seems more interested in the hot meal now in front of him.

Jones stares at the steaming bowl of creamy broth, noting the small, white chunks of cooked fish that make up the majority of the bulk. The smell is inviting and causes his mouth to water. _A cooked meal at long last._

Liliana interrupts his thoughts, "If I had access to vegetables, I could have…"

"No…no." Jones' hand waves at her to bring her to silence. His cool blue eyes leave the bowl and scan the girl who stands before him, her hands crossed gently in front of her as she waits for his interpretation of the meal. "Ye actually did it." He snorts with pleasure and lifts the spoon with a tentacle. Before placing the stew in his mouth, he quickly glances over at her, "you're not trying to poison me, are ye?"

"You're immortal as I recall."

"I could still get very sick."

"Please, Captain. Just try it. I want to know what you think." She says with a sweet smile, hoping he will not be revolted by the taste of her meal. She forces back a smile at the thought of his mood improving with a hearty meal in his belly. Maybe that is why he is so insufferable….

The Captain places the spoon in his mouth, and for the first time in centuries, his taste buds dance with the melting flavor. A mixture of salt and buttery sweetness tantalizes his long neglected tongue as he savors the heated, creamy milk. He then closes his eyes as the sweetly peppered taste of thyme mixes with the slight tang of parsley. The salted cod is now softened and easily chewed. The heat from the meal overwhelms his senses and he lets out a slight groan of pleasure.

"Well, Captain?"

Jones continues to chew with his eyes closed, savoring ever bite in complete ecstasy. "It's good…" he mumbles before shoveling in a larger mouthful. Again, his eyes close and he appears to drift off somewhere pleasant.

"There! I can obviously cook!" Liliana announces excitedly. She giggles as he continues to stay in his reverie. "How long has it been since you've had a warm meal, Captain?"

"Do not ask…" Jones mumbles between mouthfuls. "Consider yourself hired."

"You mean I am actually needed now? I have a reason to be?"

He nods impatiently. "Aye. Now leave me be to eat in peace." Another spoonful disappears into his awaiting mouth.

"Yes, Captain." Liliana gives him a polite curtsy and exits the room. Her heart races excitedly with her complete success, she has won the Captain over completely. He even admitted that she is needed here!

_That went exceedingly well_, she thinks proudly. Now if only I can win the crew over that easily.


	11. Chapter 11

Jones stands up from the desk to look down at the empty bowl in front of him. A smile creeps into formation as the warmth of the meal greets his empty stomach. It radiates within him, placating the foul mood he was previously in. The only warmth he has felt over the years was from the Caribbean sun, and often that was too harsh. This seems like a tender embrace within him, like the girl sent a hug to his frosted insides.

He looks around the room as if there may be prying eyes watching. He has become accustomed to her presence and has learned to be careful with his every move. Seeing she is not in the room, which he already knew, he picks up the bowl and laps out the remainder of his meal with his tongue.

After a few licks, he is disappointed by the vacant taste of a now empty bowl. The Captain notices his feeling of satisfaction as his stomach begins to break down a cooked meal. "Dammit, that was good," he pauses and looks toward the door, "maybe there is still some left…"

Trying not to appear too hastened, the Captain slows his pace once he steps out on the quarterdeck. Looking around, his crew is faithfully hard at work, much to his astonishment. The crew normally takes respite from work when the Captain retires for his evening meal. He ignores the oddity and continues his journey toward the galley.

He finds the door wide open, with the girl seated at the table with her head resting in her hand. Upon seeing him, she jumps to her feet and sends him a polite curtsy.

"Captain, I hope you enjoyed your meal. I hope it was to your greatest satisfaction."

Jones ignores her as his eyes go directly to the pot sitting on the wood stove. He waves his hand dismissively at her. "Is there any left?"

"Yes, sir! Plenty!" Liliana rushes over to the pot with a bowl and scoops out another serving. She turns around to an already seated Captain. "I take it you will not be dining alone this time, or would you like me to leave?"

Jones curls his fingers towards himself to usher her over with his meal. She does as commanded. Jones looks down the large table to see it clean and cleared. "My commendations to ye, miss. However did ye manage to feed the crew and clean up after them so quickly? Last time I checked, they were worse than barnyard pigs at the slop." He looks over to where she stands to notice the unease upon her face.

"Actually, sir, the crew has not eaten."

"Pray why not?" Jones places his spoon on the table and leans forward.

"Well," Liliana sighs, "a few did. Bootstrap, for one, and that surly bosun as well. And there was one man who quite resembles a puffer fish and another who seems to be made of barnacles. Oh, and there was one poor soul who is made entirely from corals. "

Jones nods while making a mental note of those who are not to be punished tonight. "Some of my best men. I must apologize for the rest." The Captain eyes his bowl of food and feels water forming in his mouth for the second time today. _Stupid blackguards_, he ponders to himself, _oh well, more for me_. Jones hadn't ordered the crew to eat her meal, but he did stress that he expected it. Why they would choose his harsh punishment and empty guts over the warm and fuzzy feeling the Captain now has in his own stomach makes no sense at all to him.

"Don't fret over it, Captain. Bootstrap explained to me that they may be frightened I would poison them after what they tried on me. I can't say I blame them." Liliana sends the Captain a wicked smile. "They would most certainly deserve it."

"Come, have ye eaten? No? Take a seat, fill yourself. If ye will eat your own creation, then I know ye have not indeed tried to poison us. The crew will learn of it if they see that neither ye nor I are keeled over the side rail disposing of our accounts." The Captain watches as the girl eagerly spoons out her own portion of the meal. He points to the seat in front of him, silently stating that is where she should park herself.

"Am I allowed to eat in your presence?" She asks quietly after she takes the recommended seat on the bench.

"Aye. Ye will be one of the few who are entitled to watch me slurp my stew." Jones pauses to take in a spoonful. "Now, Miss Liliana, what are we to do with the crew? I have some ideas, but some fresh ones may bring some zest into my punishments. "

"I suppose there is nothing we can do, sir. I don't think the crew fancies me much." Liliana stabs at a tender piece of fish with her spoon, looking quite forlorn in the process.

"None of that. Do not sit there feeling sorry for yourself, 'tis not allowed here. And it is nothing personal; ye're a woman, which automatically makes ye bad luck aboard this ship."

"It is very personal, Captain Jones. I am a woman; therefore they hate me because of my gender alone. I did nothing to bring this upon myself, and the only reason for it is the fact that I have female bits, and this alone brings their hatred." Liliana pauses with her recognition of her impropriety. "I apologize for that last part, but it is very frustrating to be disliked for something I cannot control. And if women are such bad luck, why do most ships have a maiden on the front? I do believe it is to guide them and protect them on their journey, is it not? So how can women be bad luck if they seek our protection?"

Jones snickers at the question, noting happily how easily this can turn into one of their argument sessions. He feels a sudden rush of excitement flow through his inner core at the thought of sparring with this little individual who matches his intellect blow for blow. She may be a woman, but she can defend herself like a man when she needs to, and he admires that.

"For one thing, ye may not have noticed that those particular maidens are not alive and therefore cannot cause the same anarchy and chaos that a real woman could! Women aboard ships have been known to cause crewmen to turn against each other for her affections. And most Captains do not need that extra amount of stress amongst his crew. So Miss Liliana, ye and your kind are nothing but trouble." His blue eyes widen mischievously as he stares at her frowning face. He fights off a smile by popping a large chunk of fish in his mouth.

"If anything, you men are nothing but trouble…and complete hypocrites! Fighting over a woman, how pathetic! Any woman aboard a ship would be more than willing to avoid the ruthless, unending sexual needs of you barbarians. But do not fool yourself into believing that it is easy being the soul creature aboard this ship with any manners. Being surrounded by you stinking, filthy men has been nothing but agony for me! I should not be preparing food; I should be drawing a bath for you all! There are times you come in from the rain and you smell worse than a wet dog, and I could faint because of it. This ship needs, no, is craving the feminine touch. And you yourself said that I am needed aboard this ship now; do not deny it, sir. Come to think of it, now that I belong, I want a pirate name." She curls her hand into a fist and slams it on the table. Hitting the surface too hard, she tries to hide her grimace from the Captain, but his astuteness catches it immediately.

He does not hide his humor. All the while, the Captain has been silently eating through her tirade, watching her every move carefully and savoring her absent minded ability to drop her lady-like mannerisms.

"I have the perfect name for ye then." Jones continues to stare at her while consuming his meal.

"Indeed? That quick?"

"Aye," Jones looks down at his bowl trying to hide a grin that wants to be born onto his lips, "I shall call ye Shorty McLoudmouth henceforth!"

Liliana's jaw drops in disgust. "Are you making fun of my height again?"

"And your big mouth. Really, the two do not go together. So small, yet so very, very big."

"Such audacity! Well, Captain Jones, you henceforth shall be known as Cranky McBadmood."

"Eat your stew, ye wretched creature, before I eat it on ye." Jones grumbles when he realizes he's eaten the entire bowl during their conversation. This time, he was too distracted to savor all the contrasting flavors in the mixture. His attention was chiefly placed on the perplexing girl before him, something else he wouldn't mind getting a taste of.

Seeing her fold her arms in protest, he reaches forward to grab her bowl. But she quickly pulls it out of his reach, leaving him stretched across the width of the table. They glare at each other for a few moments before she smiles at him politely.

"Let's get one thing straight, Captain. This ship may be yours, but this galley…is mine." She taunts him by slowly placing a spoonful of stew into her mouth. "Mmm, that is so good."

"I'm still hungry…" Jones grumbles, almost sounding like a frustrated whimper from a scolded child.

"You had two bowls." Liliana continues to feed herself, laughing inside while watching his eyes follow the spoon to its final destination.

Jones lifts and eyebrow, "I'm a growing boy," he waves a tentacle in her face. "Besides, if ye don't give me another bowl, I will just throw ye overboard."

"You wouldn't, nay, couldn't. Admit it; like you did before, I am needed."

"Ye annoy me…"

"Do I sir? Why do you allow it then? Certainly you do not give such freedoms to your crew."

"Ye are like a flea in the bed. A single flea, so small and insignificant that it would be a waste of my time trying to rid myself of ye. So I put up with your nonsense, miss." Jones tries his hand at niggling her, hoping it will fray her nerves. There is something about seeing this girl frustrated that intrigues him so. It's almost as if she welcomes it, perhaps as much as he does. It certainly helps to pass the time and is far more entertaining than the doldrums of work.

"Hmm, then I shall continue biting you if you allow it."

"Very well. Ye will just have to put up with my foul mood when ye push me too far." Jones stands and walks over to the pot on the stove. He makes a 'hmmm' sound and picks up the cooling pot and carries it over to the table. Grabbing his spoon, he digs in elbow deep into the remaining stew.

Unable to control her delighted response, Liliana lets out a bubbly laugh that warrants a slight smile from the Captain. "That is the best compliment I think I could ever receive. But do not eat until you are sick. I will not clean up after you." She pauses to appreciate the Captain's eagerness to eat her meal and then a sudden melancholy hits her when she realizes why. "You must have been terribly hungry. All these years with no one to look after you, no wonder you are so dreadfully thin. It will do you some good to get proper food into you." A glimpse of his hardened muscles flashes through her mind. She recalls the flat planes of his stomach, remembering clearly that he is very lean under that vest and coat; perhaps regular meals will bulk up that masculine body even more. She wonders silently if she will get to see the end result.

Jones sends her a puzzled frown. He examines the tone of her voice, the words she used. Was that sympathy she just sent his way? "I can take care of myself." He grumbles defensively.

His protective wall is instantly built up again, surrounding his vulnerability. The last woman that pretended to care about his well being was the reason he ended up in this whole mess. No, he will not allow himself to be placed in such a vulnerable state again. He learned his lesson the hard way, and it will not happen for a second time. Jones will have to keep his guard up around this girl; she knocks down his defenses too quickly. There is a safety he feels when he is with her, like he can open up and finally allow his true self to show. But he felt the same way about the last one. No woman can ever be trusted. This girl must have a motive, something to gain. Just like the last one. Jones is unsure of what that might be, but he must quickly find out what it is.

His sudden change in demeanor catches Liliana off guard. The Captain now seems to be eying her with deep suspicion when before he was playfully joking with her. What is it with this man? One minute he seems to allow himself to relax, the next he is defensive.

"I know that, sir. I am just saying that I would be honored if you allowed me to improve your situation."

Jones stops eating and stares at the girl in front of him. "My situation is fine."

"Really? You call starving and constantly being in a foul mood fine?"

"I'll thank ye not to meddle in my personal affairs, miss."

"Very well." Liliana sighs as she goes back to playing with her food with her spoon. Her stomach is growling viciously, begging her to eat, but she seems to have lost her appetite.

Jones clears his throat and steps away from the table. "I will finish this in my quarters. See to it that something is made for the morning. I will deal with the crew shortly."

Liliana watches as the remaining stew is poured out into the Captain's bowl. The chunks of fish plop heavily into the liquid, causing it to splash out onto the table. He takes his bowl and exits the galley swiftly, leaving her behind with the mess. What had she done wrong to cause his improved mood to go downhill so quickly? What did she say that forced him to leave? She carefully examines every word she spoke, and then re-examines them. Liliana finds no trace of anything that would be insulting or damaging to his sensibilities. All she did was offer him some desperately needed kindness. She lets out a heavy sigh as she reaches for the pot. With the sun setting soon, it would be best to have everything done and safely locked away for the night.

She looks over at Tess who now sleeps peacefully on the floor. "Oh, Tess, I have no idea what I am doing wrong. One minute he seems to approve of me, the next, he loathes my presence. I wish there was some way to find out why he seems so defensive around me."


	12. Chapter 12

After hours of painstakingly preparing another meal for the crew to break their fast -a meal that went mostly unnoticed yet again- Liliana quickly withdrew from the menacing stares and soul piercing threats of the crew to her new place of solace; the balcony outside the large windows of the Captain's cabin.

Two weeks have passed and her situation has only progressed further into misery. The Captain's mood has not stabilized like she had hoped; apparently a good meal did not do his body good. He is just as foul and quick tempered as ever, snapping at her at the most inappropriate times.

And yet, when they are alone, hidden away from the judging eyes of his men, he is a completely different person. It's as if he is concerned about the crew associating him with her, as if he may be fearful of them deciding he has gone soft. So he is harsh with her out on deck, ordering her around just like the others. But that struggle for propriety and order seems to melt away when the only other voice in the room belongs to her.

He teases her as if he wants to make her laugh. He is often the first one to get her defensive hackles on end just so they can argue playfully. Jones had even offered advice on how to handle the taunts and glares from the crew, telling her to ignore them and if that didn't work to shout something vulgar right back at them. This suggestion made the young girl gasp with exasperation.

But mostly, the Captain tries to lighten her mood about her situation, unfortunately, it is often in vain. After lacking female companionship for so long, he has lost the proper finesse for these situations.

"They think ye are a witch." He mumbled with a jovial texture in his voice one day. He had just finished another meal she had prepared, one meant for the entire crew, but like the rest before, most of it ended up in the dark recesses of his own stomach.

"Why would they think that?"

"Your hair is red in the sunlight. Apparently having red hair often means ye are a witch. I don't know! They were the ones saying it!" Jones backed away defensively when she sent him a look of death, one more powerful than any he could ever hope to give.

She now giggles in remembrance as she sniffs and wipes away a few tears that had forced their way out of her eyelids. Lately, it has become increasingly hard to keep those burning emotions locked deep within. So she comes to the balcony where she knows she will be left in peace. This is where she comes to cry.

She must not show weakness to these men, for she is expected to work as hard as any of them. If they detect her vulnerabilities, they will for certain take advantage of them. When the Captain's back is turned, they pull the harshest pranks on her to break her resistance. She has been tripped by oddly placed rigging, pushed over by someone who went completely out of their way to make her fall, and the worst of all was the dead seagull left in her cooking pot. An abandoned scream ripped from her throat as she stared down at the innocent creature, neck twisted and broken. They knew well enough that she would have to remove the animal herself, that she would need that pot to cook the next meal. Thankfully, Bootstrap came to her aid upon hearing her shriek and disposed of the animal for her.

And once again the Captain was notified and once more the perpetrators were punished. But now Liliana is seeing a trend, the more the Captain comes to her aid, the more malevolent the crew becomes with her. She is becoming a source of further pain for them, even if they are bringing it upon themselves by harassing her. The more pain the Captain inflicts, the more she gets in return. So she has decided to take their abuse as best she can, on her own. Maybe then they will at least back away if they see she no longer runs to her vindictive protector.

But she is no fool. She knew from the very beginning that the dead seagull was a threat on her life. It hit her hard that this was no longer a prank to annoy her, that they now meant her harm. As if to say, we did this to that animal and we'll do it to you too.

Her bodyguard, the first mate, is of little use to her. He is often grouped with the men involved, laughing at her expense. What she wouldn't give to just walk up to him and slap him across the face! She would, if she knew she wouldn't get a back hand in return.

Releasing a stress laden sigh, she reaches down to pick up the journal that was found with her on the night Jones brought her on board. No words can describe how angry, frightened, lonely and disgusted she feels, so instead she puts her emotions down on paper in the form of art.

She was surprised to pick up that piece of charcoal from the oven and find that she could create something tangible.

The Captain still allows her some free time between meals, mainly because there is nothing else for her to do, so she escapes for her few minutes of crying, while the rest of the time is spent sketching the world around her.

Every now and then, a sea bird will float gracefully by, relying on the updrafts created by the waves to save valuable energy. She quickly places its likeness on a blank page before her so she can remember it always. Birds are a rarity out here, and seeing how one of their own was so cruelly mistreated by the crew, perhaps it is best they stay far away from this wicked ship.

But today, her focus is on the sweeping and swirling of a beard made of writhing tentacles. She has found the Captain's facial growths to be quite amusing to sketch. Their mismatched curling and twisting creates such a peaceful fluidity in her hand, calming her nerves with every stroke.

She pauses to look down at the drawing, pleased with how it is turning out. For some reason, she always leaves his eyes to the very last. Reaching over, she sharpens the tip of the charred wood with the gulley the Captain provided for her. His eyes require exquisite detail, a dull tip just will not do. Slowly, she lightly drags the tip across the paper, paper which is still curled and bumpy from being soaked with sea water. A smile comes to her face as she sets that foreboding frown in place. The picture stares back at her with the same judgment and irritation as the real face does every day.

"There, Captain. Now you are just as cantankerous as in real life." Pursing her lips, she blows lightly across the surface of the paper to remove any excess debris.

As she examines her work, she finds herself unconsciously running a finger tip along the rugged cheek bone that she meticulously shaded in earlier. Those eyes stare out at her, almost imploringly. Her fingers then trace down the broad, muscular shoulders of a man who looks like he is more than accustomed to a rugged life at sea. She smiles at the powerful arms that would be protective, strong, perhaps loving. She pauses there, confused by the tender emotion brewing inside her for this image of the Captain.

"You, my dear Captain, are impossible to figure out." She speaks softly to the picture as if it were really him. "You seem happy with my company one minute but totally irked by it the next. I just wish I could figure you out. I don't know what it is about you, but I am intrigued to know why you are so very angry with the world."

Perhaps it is the realization that she will be with this man for an undetermined amount of time, this may be the reason she wants to know more about him. Maybe she is just so lonely for comfort that she is desperate to reach out to anyone at this point. No, she has Bootstrap for that. Jones is seldom more than brusquely supportive; so there is no real comfort there. Or is it that she sees something more in him? Deep within the recesses of those frosted sapphire eyes, there is something equivalent to longing. Liliana is unable to determine what that is, but it seems to peer out from the very depths of his soul when he is laughing. What an amazing event it would be for him to actually allow himself to relax. There seems to be two sides to this man, and one side is preferred over the other by Liliana.

And whether she likes it or not, Jones really is the only person she has. Bootstrap is limited by duty and cannot overstep his bounds as he was never assigned to her care. No one really stands by her side like Jones does; he is the one that is quickest to defend her with a brutality that cannot be matched. It's as if he is the only one that is allowed to harass her, playful or otherwise. He is the one that strives to make her laugh when she is in a foul mood. And Jones has been the one to provide her with everything she requires, sometimes going out of his own way to do so. But why? Why would this normally brutal man give a damn about her one minute and then treat her harshly the next? It all seems so perplexing.

"So this be where ye have been hiding."

Liliana looks up to the man who has been filling her thoughts for the past few minutes. Quickly, she shuts the journal and places it behind her back. Her thoughts were so involved that she had failed to hear his heavy footsteps on approach.

"Now do not think ye can pull the wool over my eyes, lass, I see your fingers covered with ash. What have ye been writing there?" The Captain leans his backside against the wooden rail, folding his arms as if impatiently waiting for her answer.

"Not writing, drawing actually. Just something to pass the time."

Jones extends his human hand to her, his tentacle finger wrapped tightly in place around his thick wrist, "may I see? Or is it naughty in nature?"

Liliana's jaw drops but quickly forms a wide smile. "It most certainly is not! But that doesn't mean my private thoughts can be shared either."

"I'm the Captain and what I want I normally get."

"You sound like a spoilt child, sir. Besides, I cannot see how these would be of any interest to you."

"They interest me plenty. Now hand it over or I shall be forced to remove it myself." Jones takes a step forward in an attempt to startle her. He smiles contently to see her reach for the book and clutch it to her chest tightly.

"These are private!" Liliana pauses and sees her opportunity. "I'll let you see them, if you share something private with me." She sends him a wicked smile, one that causes his newly formed pulse to quicken in his veins.

"Absolutely not!" Jones growls bitterly. "There is nothing ye need to know about me."

"Very well then, Captain. I guess you won't be seeing this." She places the journal on the floor of the balcony and folds her arms in front of her.

Jones eyes her carefully. "What pray tell do ye want to know?"

"Nothing too personal." Liliana beams at her new found success and taps the spot next to her with her hand, beckoning him to sit.

Rolling his eyes, Jones lumbers over and awkwardly sinks down into an uncomfortable sitting position. When his outstretched hand is not immediately filled with the object of his desire, he frowns at the girl next to him.

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your willingness to share my company." Liliana giggles as she hands over the journal.

"Ah, let's see now." Jones eagerly begins sifting through the pages, but soon finds disappointment. "Birds, another bird, oh look a bird! And what a surprise, another blasted bird. You must be terribly jaded to be drawing the same subject over and over."

"It is about the only thing to draw out here. What do you think of them?" Liliana asks, suddenly impatient for his opinion. She looks up at him and smiles pleasantly.

"Well, they are not naked ladies like I was hoping, but they are quite good. That one is an albatross," he taps a finger next to the drawing after receiving dagger eyes for his perversion that she would draw the naked female form, "I would wager from looking at the wings. Or a mollyhawk as they are sometimes known. Ye know, it is said that these birds carry the lost souls of sailors; therefore to kill one is to bring certain death to ye and your crew." Jones let out a slight laugh, "I guess who ever came up with that did not know about me."

Liliana looks over at the man sitting next to her. A man that normally seems so forlorn now has a smile on his face, a genuine smile. All of a sudden, this man has blossomed into that part of himself that Liliana is starting to adore simply for the rarity of it. When he smiles, his eyes shine like the reflection off a sunlit tidal pool. His voice becomes smooth and calm as he lets his guard down. Surely no one else has the honor of seeing this secret half of the Captain. She is filled with admiration to learn this wisdom from him, something she would not have known if he hadn't shared it with her. This man could teach her so much about the world around her, and she would be a willing pupil.

She smiles kindly at him, "I did not know that, Captain. I guess the same does not apply for seagulls."

Jones shifts slightly, becoming uncomfortable with her reference to the incident that terrified her so. "No…it does not." Jones continues to turn the pages, now more methodically to identify the next bird and to explain his knowledge about the animal. He pauses only for a moment when the girl leans in closer to him, noting the warmth radiating from her body. He swallows hard and continues flipping the pages until he is forced to stop by the next set of images.

"These…are me? You've drawn me?" Jones' eyes squint tightly together to block out the sunlight so he can examine every detail.

"Yes, I hope you don't mind, Captain, but I just couldn't resist. You are a very interesting subject to sketch."

Taken aback, the Captain stares down in amazement at the meticulous amount of detail she had placed in every drawing. Every line on his face, ever suction cup and tentacle where it should be, the likeness superb. For centuries now, he has seen himself as a horrible and disfigured monster. But this girl has drawn him to represent what she sees, a human underneath it all. For once, he is not disgusted by an image of himself. She has made him seem beautiful here. The obvious amount of time and care placed into each drawing leaves him perplexed.

"You don't like them?" Liliana asks quietly as she examines his shocked expression.

"On the contrary, I am quite astounded. But why would ye draw me?"

At first, Liliana thinks it would be best to tell a white lie to cover the real reason she was drawing him. But she does not feel like she was ever the kind of person to hold her true feelings inside. He does have a right to know the truth.

"Captain, these past few months have been very, very trying. At first, I didn't want to know you or be anywhere near you. But after spending this time in your presence, I have come to appreciate you as a companion. After all, you are the only one who really cares about my well being. You saved me, and for that I am grateful."

Jones closes the book and eyes her wearily.

Noticing his unease, she decides to push him farther. "And now it is time for you to keep up your end of the bargain. Now you have to tell me something personal because I showed you these. I want to know why you become so very tense when I compliment you or give you praise."

Jones scowls and turns his head away from her. "Because I am not used to it, that's why."

"But you are the Captain, surely your crew would admire your strength and undeniable knowledge…"

"No, dammit. And I'd prefer if ye stopped this praise nonsense."

"Surely you could use it. I do not see the harm." Liliana reaches out to place her hand on his.

He jerks his hand out from underneath the inviting warmth that covers it, causing the journal to fall to the floor and open to the very middle where a small wooden cross falls out of its protective home within the binding.

Jones clambers upright and presses his back against the wall as if he were under attack. "What the hell is that?"

Liliana quizzically examines him and then looks down at the small wooden object. "It's a cross."

"I know what the fuck it is! Get that thing off my ship!" Jones snarls down at the girl, still maintaining as much space between his body and the cross as possible.

"But it is obviously mine! I will not!"

"I will not have religious paraphernalia on my ship!" Jones reaches out to grab the girl, but she quickly moves out of reach, putting herself between him and the cross.

"It is mine and it may have sentimental value!" Liliana implores the still panicking Captain.

"Ye don't remember your past! How can it have value?"

"But it might be able to trigger some memories; it might help me to regain my past!"

Jones looks around for a possible escape route and spots an exit to his immediate right side. Liliana, not willing to end this, jumps in front of him holding the cross in her hand. The Captain gasps and falls back against the wall for the second time.

"You are not going anywhere until you answer me! Why are you so afraid of me? Why do you push me away whenever I try to reach out to you?"

Jones' shock melts away like ice water and a fiery rage quickly takes its place. "Damn ye! I hate ye because ye are a woman! Ye and your kind are vicious, cruel fiends that only take what ye want and then leave! Ye can never be trusted because ye are one of them! And I do not need your pity, ye pathetic excuse for a human! I will never trust ye! Is that what ye want to hear? Is it?"

Liliana's heart drops as the words finally become comprehended. She lowers the cross, allowing him to storm by.

"Damn woman," he swears as he pushes her out of the way.

"I want to keep the cross."

Jones stops and spins around to face her defiance, his eyes burning with fury. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am keeping the cross." Liliana looks over to the Captain without an ounce of fear showing. She straightens her back while holding her head high. "I keep it."

"How dare ye? How dare ye defy my orders?"

"How dare you judge me so harshly when I have done nothing wrong?" Liliana whispers in a barely audible voice.

"Ye will. All women eventually do harm."

"You don't know me, Captain Jones."

"Ye don't know yourself!" He storms towards her but stops short when she fearlessly lifts the cross up again. "Damn ye to hell!"

"I don't know what you are so afraid of, but you have nothing to fear from me."

"You say this holding the symbol of my enemy! Ye repugnant hypocrite!"

"Somehow, I will figure out how to help you, Captain Jones. But you have to first be willing to allow me to."

"Stop speaking as if ye were some kind of prophet! I do not need your help, nor do I welcome it. You take that cursed possession of yours and ye hide it within the deepest bowels of my ship! Do ye hear me? I must never see it! And it must never see the light of day again! If I find it, so help me!"

"Very well." Liliana says with a slight nod and then places the cross under her shirt. She watches as the Captain turns around and exits with some very graphic profanities floating violently through the air.

Taking a deep breath, Liliana now decides that she has a mission. Once again, the Captain allowed her to glimpse a more tender side of him today. But a glimpse is not enough for her now; she wants to see it always. She now knows how to break down his resolve, there is a way through that protective forest he is hiding behind. And she is determined to set him free.


	13. Chapter 13

Once more, the Captain has become his livid self, barking out impossible orders and offering punishments of all miserable kinds to anyone who would have the audacity to cross his path on deck. His temper, of course, being most foul toward the girl who stood up to him. She had disobeyed him by stating she would keep the cross, blatantly defying his demands. Not only that, she used the holy symbol for protection against him, the 'Sea Devil' himself. Actions such as these would normally warrant extreme punishment along with months if not an eternity of verbal abuse.

But for the first time in centuries, the boiling and writhing swells of anger cannot become verbalized. No expletives reach her innocent ears over the passing days. It is as if someone has muzzled him, rendering him unable to express his malicious abhorrence for her disobedience.

So instead, he just glared at her. His eyes followed her with a ferocity that the crew quickly picked up on and instinctively avoided. But she, no, she continued on her way as if he was merely glancing curiously at her. This only intensified his ire, causing him to storm towards her with every intent of snapping her neck. Expecting her to cower beneath him like the rest, he was instead forced to halt everything when she looked up at him and smiled.

And she had spoken to him then, something about the weather being pleasant, but that smile never left her lips. And then she turned away to leave him standing there, quickly losing his desire to strike her due to his overwhelming astonishment brought on by her boldness..

As he now makes his way across deck in a driving rain, he ponders out loud to himself, "how did she do it? How can she do it? What is wrong with me? It is like she has some power over me." Jones immediately stops his travels and looks up to the heavens above. The darkened sky reveals nothing, just the constant and unforgiving rain that falls down upon his upturned face. "'Tis Ye who sent her, aye? Your way of trying to draw me back, mayhap? Well, it will not work! No child of Yours Ye send would ever be able to remove the hatred and evil in my soul. I'll show Ye, and I'll show her."

A low rumble of thunder is the only response.

"Bah, pointless talking to Ye!" Jones dismissively tosses his hand towards the sky and continues on his way, checking to see if the ship is secure for the night. To Jones, it is the only possible explanation for the infuriating girl. Never has he come across a creature that stirred him more. Never has he experienced such turmoil of conflicting emotions. Hell, he is not even supposed to have emotions anymore! This girl is bringing back everything he has so desperately tried to escape from.

So she must be one of His. Why else would he be so helpless to rid himself of her? Any other soul would have been cut in half long ago for the nonsense she puts him through. She must have some sort of possessive power over him. And for some blasted reason, it is strongest when she smiles!

The Captain pauses to meticulously check the standing rigging of the mainmast. The newly replaced lines having recently been tarred, he scrutinizes the cordage carefully for any missed spots or signs of weakness. Satisfied, he wipes the rain from his eyes and continues on, enjoying the crushing darkness and solitude around him. If there is anything to keep his mind off the girl, it is his beloved ship.

As he walks along, he allows his hand to run along the weather beaten rails of the ancient Dutch fluyt. This ship has been his existence for so long now; it is as if life beyond her limited borders ceases. Perhaps, someday, when he is not so entirely enraged with the girl, he will tell her what he knows about this type of vessel.

Jones halts, "Dammit! She's in my mind again! Get out!" He reaches up and angrily balls his fist to his forehead, causing his hat to fly backwards onto the deck. Bending down to retrieve it, his eyes catch a glimpse of a traveling fluid mixing with the rain. His eyes have become superb with night vision over the years at sea, and he follows the flowing trail to the galley door.

He does not see a light shining from under the door. No sounds emit from behind it either, so no one is inside. A sudden realization hits him when he remembers what was being kept in this room, and what the fluid beneath his feet actually is.

He sighs and pushes the door open to expose what he had prepared himself for. Jones turns away in disgust at the remaining corpse of the goat named Tess. Death does not normally revolt him in such a manner, normally it is comforting, almost inviting. Why he is not laughing for the cruelty of it makes no sense to him now. This savagery seems unnecessary.

Jones tries to remind himself that this animal was destined for the dinner table, but the image of the girl bending down to stroke its floppy ears with a tender hand repeatedly stabs at him. This wasn't a meal to Liliana, it was a companion, and her only one. And now all that remains of the animal are bits of fur, broken shards of bone still ripe with marrow, and the blood that caught the Captain's attention.

And the only reason it was so savagely torn apart was to torment and terrify her. The realization that he will have to be the one to tell her this causes that familiar rage to begin churning within him. Slamming the door behind him, he disappears into the night only to reappear in the middle of his now relaxing crew below deck.

Before any of them can react, Jones reaches for the bosun's cat-o-nines, ripping it directly from the man's weathered hands, and viciously begins striking any flesh that is nearby.

"Ye all think it is clever to inflict pain on the girl? Well let us see how clever ye feel after each and every one of ye have felt one hundred stinging kisses from the cat-o-nines!"

When the bosun stands to do his normal duty, Jones pushes him away as if he weighed less than a feather.

"Bosun, who be the foul perpetrators that were above deck tonight? Whom shall I inflict pain upon, hmm? Who shall be whipped until they are begging for mercy and are left with festering wounds to rot and only to be whipped again later?" Jones snarls as he eyes each crewman in front of him. "Bosun!"

"Aye, sir." The bosun, Jimmylegs, squares his shoulders and holds his head high while avoiding the burning eyes of the Captain. Instinctively, he coldly releases any bonds he may have with his fellow men and follows the orders of his superior. On this ship, it is either them or yourself. "Sir, the crewmen that can be accounted for are the coxswain, deckhand Clanker, the first mate, deckhand Bootstrap, the navigator, your bodyguard, sir, and myself. All others were not within my range of vision, sir."

"So, some of my best men were sleeping on the job?" Jones hisses as he harshly examines the men mentioned. They were not responsible but will still suffer for not preventing this.

"Nay, sir. This is our designated rest period." Jimmylegs swallows the tense ball forming in his throat.

Anger bubbles in Jones' voice as he speaks. "From now on, I want a senior officer on deck at all times! Starting now! Get your filthy asses up on that deck before I reconsider and punish the entire lot of ye!" Before anyone can move, Jones reaches out with the whip and strikes at a sideways angle, slashing multiple men all at once. As the men make their escape up the stairs, Jones strikes again. "Everyone of ye shall relearn the meaning of pain tonight! Line up so I can break your skin properly!" The whip comes down hard again on any available flesh before him. "Who is it that makes threats against the girl?" Another crack of the whip makes contact with multiple backsides; each man struck now fighting back screams of agony. "Tell me or this will go on all night!"

Liliana opens her eyes to the dancing light of a promising new morning. Stretching out her stiff muscles, she climbs out of bed with her continued determination to win over the Captain at its highest level yet. She had dreamt of him again last night. For the past week, her dreams have been filled by a smiling face and a tender baritone voice belonging to the Captain.

She looks around the room, squinting in the growing light to identify his form. Walking over to the organ bench, she places a hand on the seat to check the rain water his clothing would have collected last night. He must have left a while ago, she thinks to herself.

From behind her, the door creaks open and the familiar footsteps of the Captain enter into the room. She turns around to face him, sending another smile that she hopes will brighten his mood. "Good morning, Captain. You must have woken quiet early this morning." She drops into a polite curtsy.

Her smile causes his knees to soften and he feels as if they might buckle beneath his massive form. His stomach begins to tumble over as he reminds himself of the terrible speech he has been practicing in his mind while exacting his punishments. He had stayed out in the rain to make sure any blood or bits of torn flesh were washed away before coming inside. "Miss Liliana, I…"

"Oh, come now. How long have I been in your presence? Why, it has been months now. There is no need for formalities, Captain. Plain old Liliana will suffice." She states in a teasing voice, hoping a drop of formalities will get him to relax.

"No, miss. It shall not." Jones looks away from her beaming face, finding he is being swirled into her powers yet again. If he does not focus on her smile, he should be able to tell her the terrible news.

"Is something the matter, Captain Jones? You look as if you have seen a ghost."

"Aye, the ghost of a stupid goat." He mumbles under his breath. He is struggling with conflicting emotions, unable to grasp why she should be so upset over the death of a barn yard animal, or why he should even give a damn about her impending reaction to it. Yet, he is continually being bombarded with images of her smiling face as she caressed the animal's head. It obviously meant something to her, so he must prepare himself for her response. He clears his throat to continue. "Ye may take a seat, miss."

Liliana's brow sinks into a frown. "No, Captain, I am fine standing here."

"Miss Liliana, I…" He pauses when he suddenly catches the concern upon her face. This is going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be. "I regret to inform ye that something vile occurred last night while ye were at rest. I'm afraid the crew got to the goat and…"

"What?" Liliana interrupts with a harsh whisper and walks towards the Captain.

"Well, I will spare ye the details but I am afraid that she is no more."

"What?"

The Captain watches as her face goes pale, feeling as if his might follow suit. "But do not fret, I punished those responsible and they are being held in the brig for a fortnight. I also had the remaining crew clean the galley so there is no trace of the deed."

"What?" Liliana rasps, her voice becoming increasingly breathless with every step she takes. She finally stops within inches of the Captain, staring up into his face to examine him.

He steps back, uncomfortable with her scrutiny and trying to escape the deep, penetrating sadness that now pools in her darkening eyes. "It shall not happen again, miss."

"I should say not, because Tess is dead!"

"Ye were told not to name it. Ye were told not to become attached." Jones reminds her.

"She was not an 'it', sir!" Liliana explodes. "She was all that I had! She was the only creature aboard this ship that accepted me for me! Damn you! Damn all of you!" She reaches out and strikes the Captain's stomach with all her strength, but he only catches her hand and holds her steady. "You have no idea how lonely I have been! You have no idea how miserable it has been for me, to have these men harassing me on a daily basis, threatening my life! Why did you bring me here? Just kill me and be done with it already!" She sobs and sinks to the floor. "I have nothing! I have no one! Do you not understand how despondent I am? I did nothing to deserve this pain, and yet it is inflicted anyways!"

Jones follows her down, not releasing her arm from his grip. "Do not assume that I do not understand your sorrow, for I live it myself every day." He states quietly.

"But you chose this for yourself! You chose to live your life alone! And you chose it for me when I would not want it otherwise!"

He releases her hand and allows her to fall flat on the floor, watching her body shiver with grief, listening to the pain in her moans of agony. "I see it now." Jones mumbles softly. "I saved ye because I was in the exact state ye are in right now. I didn't want to be alone. So I selfishly kept ye here hoping it would improve my existence, but all the while not caring about your own."

Liliana lifts her head from the floor, tears streaking down her face. She quickly tucks away the mess of disheveled hair that hangs in front of her face. "What are you saying?"

Jones takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "I am saying that ye can go. Ye deserve better."

"Go? Go where?" Her voice escapes as a distressed laugh.

"Wherever it was that ye were going that night. Perhaps heaven. No, most likely."

Liliana sniffles as she looks around the room in despair. "And what about you?"

Perplexed, Jones stares down at her with his head turned to the side in an attempt to understand her. "What about me?"

"You say that you needed me, now you are willing to let me go?" Liliana lifts herself to settle on her knees in front of him. Her eyes blurry with tears, she wipes them to get a clearer image of the man before her. "What about you?"

"Bah! It doesn't matter." His eyes close tightly and he turns his face away.

Her hand reaches up and cups his cheek, turning his face back to hers. She stares intently into his eyes, examining the fear and sadness within. "Yes, it does matter. You matter to me."

"No." Jones pulls away and tries to stand but her arms go around his claw in a desperate attempt to keep him down.

"Will you please listen? Selfish or not, you needed me. But now you constantly throw me back into the water whenever I make an attempt to offer you the help you so urgently crave."

"Why do ye even care?" Jones snarls defensively.

"I don't know! But I do. But we seem to have a lot more in common than we previously thought. We're both lonely; we both need assurance that life is going to be okay. We both feel isolated and despised by the world around us. Don't you see? I need you as much as you need me!"

"I'm the reason ye are in this mess!"

"What has been done is done! It's in the past. I am here now and now you are the only thing I have! I need you to stop pushing me away, Davy!"

His eyes dart over to hers at the mention of his Christian name. There, he studies her pain, watching the tears that continually flow down her cheeks. He sees a pain that is not only hers but his as well. She holds his agony deep within herself, even though it is not her burden to bear. It is as if she puts it upon herself so that his suffering will lessen.

Unable to control the urge, he reaches down and cups her face with his massive hand, bringing his lips to hers. She trembles underneath him, but quickly melts under his possessive kiss. She presses back to silently urge him to continue. Through his lips she can feel the centuries of loneliness and despair escaping with his tender touch. Her arms reach around his shoulders to pull his body closer, to allow him to soak up her comfort. And underneath her, warmth begins to replace the coolness on his skin, flooding in from some unknown source. All she wants now is for him to let go of the past and let her in to heal the scars inside him. The tension in his muscles quickly fades as he explores the mouth he has longed to kiss since the moment he laid eyes on it.

He suddenly pulls away and pushes her back from his body. "I'm sorry, that was improper of me."

"No. Don't apologize." She whispers, "come here." She reaches up and guides his face back to hers. She needs this sweet embrace as much as he does. She needs to know that someone out there cares for her well being, that someone wants what is best for her. And in his touch, she feels this overwhelmingly with Davy. No one could possibly harm her now, for she has him by her side. And now it no longer matters what he is, or what he was and will be. All of a sudden, his appearance means nothing to her as she openly accepts him for who he is deep inside. His lips tell a story of a kind and gentle man buried far too long under a world of pain and desolation. A man he has tried to hide from her but failed tremendously to keep secret. Now she finds herself craving this man, enjoying the taste of his kiss and the budding warmth on his lips.

This time he pulls away slowly and a grin forms where she had just passionately kissed. "I am afraid I am slightly out of form. It has been a while." He chuckles as he re-examines his performance. Her lips were incredibly soft and surprisingly skilled beneath his own. She may not know it, but he can tell she has definitely done some practicing of her own before her accident.

She gazes up at him softly and laughs to herself. "You are a very good kisser." She pauses, "may I call you by your name now?"

"Aye." Davy reaches down to pull her forehead to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on the innocent girl. It's an innocence he craves, so fresh and vibrant in his world of cruelty and suffering.

"Hmm, Davy." She smiles as he continues to feather kisses on her brow. "And do not think I will allow you to call me Miss Liliana any longer."

Davy chuckles as he inhales the feminine scent of her existence. "Very well, Liliana."

"Call me Lil."


	14. Chapter 14

As he exited the room that day, he had tenderly swept his hand along the curve of her shoulder. He looked back one final time to send her a smile she had never witnessed before, one with gratitude and yet still pondering if what had just occurred was a breach of propriety. She had returned the gesture, but in a confident manner to let him know that she did not question his motives.

That was a fortnight ago. She now stands out on deck in the fading sunlight as another day comes to a close. She no longer hides from the crew, instead, she walks around deck as if she owns it. No threats or pranks have occurred since the night the Captain punished the crew for the slaughter of her goat. The entire crew was punished, not just the perpetrators. They all paid for the sins of a few, and therefore the few responsible were chastised by the rest. The crew now pretends she no longer exists. And she is fine with this. She finally feels as if she can live her life freely.

Pulling loose the string that holds her hair in place, she allows her auburn mane to flow freely in the gentle ocean breeze. She can feel his gaze upon her from up at the helm, he is studying her intently. Liliana pretends not to notice the gentle caress of his eyes as they scan her head to toe, but she cannot ignore the warm feeling it causes within her.

So far, her attempt to break through the Captain's protective inner walls has been relatively successful. He has not opened up to her completely by sharing information about his life, but at least he no longer becomes so guarded when she approaches him with kindness. This existence aboard the ship is harsh enough on its own; the man is in desperate need of a friend more than anything else. Perhaps now he realizes this and is finally willing to accept her as one.

Perhaps even more. Since that moment, when his lips affectionately came into contact with hers, she has contemplated what this now means for their existence together. A kiss is a very intimate sort of behavior, one you do not just fling upon another soul simply because of a whim. _He must have a reason for his desire_, she thinks to herself with a smile.

She felt his hunger, his desire for her touch. It simply could not be ignored. An intense longing was welling up within him, something she felt she must fulfill. And despite their antagonistic past, she had felt the same urge for him. Suddenly, all the harsh words spoken over the past months had magically disappeared from her memory with the taste of his kiss.

_I wonder what he is thinking about when he looks at me that way_, she thinks as she catches him with a smirk on his face while still holding his gaze upon her. She laughs when she realizes exactly what he must be thinking, for the other day; he had caught her in a rather comprising situation.

After becoming drenched in a downpour of rain, Liliana had retired to the cabin to change into dry clothes. She had peeled the soaked clothes from her body and tossed them to the floor when the door creaked open from behind her.

With her backside completely exposed to the eyes of the Captain, he got a full view of the plump roundness of her buttocks and the creamy white of her thighs and back.

"DAVY!" She had screamed and quickly grabbed a blanket to cover herself.

The Captain, being totally stunned by the image of a naked woman before him just stood there blinking as if he couldn't believe his luck.

"Don't you know how to knock?"

"These are my quarters, ye expect me to knock?"

"Yes! Now that you share them with a woman!

"Do not fret, Lil, I only saw your ass! And a nice one it is too!"

She had tossed her wet clothes at him and screamed at him to get out. He left the room laughing, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Still feeling his burning gaze travel the length of her body, she turns to smile at him. The Captain checks himself and turns his gaze back to the sea.

"Ah, Miss Liliana, my compliments on another fine meal," Bootstrap announces from behind, a smile brightening his otherwise melancholy demeanor, "I shall sleep soundly tonight with my hunger so fully sated." He gently claps a hand down on her shoulder.

"That is very good to hear, Bill." Liliana smiles sweetly then turns back out to watch the setting sun.

"Something troubling you, lass?"

"Hmm? No, Bill."

"You seemed quite lost in your thoughts before I walked over here."

"Were you watching me?" Liliana turns and sends him a teasing smile. She had immediately apologized to the older man when she found out that he had been punished for the misdeeds of the others. The man simply smiled and apologized in return for not protecting her only possession in this world.

Bootstrap leans in closer and explains in a low voice. "When you are out in the open, I always watch your back, for safety reasons."

"It is very much appreciated, sir. But the Captain is at the helm in full view of everyone; I am in no present danger." Liliana turns to view the man standing proudly at the wheel. Secretly, she hopes he will return her glance, but does not get her wish.

Bootstrap distracts her when he reaches for her hand. "Walk with me." He offers her his arm and leads her away. He now feels the eyes of the Captain sharply upon himself, but this time his stare is one of scrutiny and malevolence.

Once they are below deck, Bootstrap stops and smiles down at her.

"I know that look, Bill. Something is troubling you. What concerns you so?"

"Miss Liliana, forgive me, but I feel I must intrude. I hope in no way will I offend you, for I would hate to destroy our new found friendship with my troubling apprehension for your well being." He pulls her in closer by closing his arm tighter around hers. "You see, I have come to view you somewhat like a daughter over these passing months, and I am unable to allow any further heartache to come your way."

Liliana's free hand travels to cover her heart, deeply touched by the man's admissions. "Bill, that means so much to me. I am honored to have someone care for me so deeply."

Bootstrap frees her arm and turns to face her. "Do you trust me?"

Liliana examines him carefully. "Yes, you know I do."

"You trust my judgment."

"Yes."

"I fear this is improper of me to say, but I also fear that if I do not say something that you will only end up hurt yet again."

"Then out with it, man!" Liliana releases a bubbly laugh that echoes throughout the hall where they stand alone. "Enough with the suspense."

Bootstrap's callused hands grip the girl's arms, squeezing tight enough to allow his dismay to flow through his fingers. "Miss, I fear you're becoming smitten with the Captain."

Liliana exudes a snorting laugh. "Beg your pardon?"

"I see it, miss. I see the way you look at him, the way you smile. Why, you even speak softer to him now."

"I am most certainly not smitten with the Captain. I could never be attracted to a man the likes of him." The lie on her tongue tastes bitter in her mouth.

"No miss, I see it." Bootstrap's grip tightens slightly around her arms. "You must be very careful. A man such as the Captain would never treat you well. You must remember this! He has a hatred for women! Is he treating you differently behind closed doors?"

"Differently?" Liliana's brow sinks low into a puzzled frown. "Whatever do you mean?"

"He is all rules and decorum out on deck, but does he speak softly to you in his cabin? Does he make promises? Does he…"

Liliana pulls out of his grip. "Mr. Bootstrap, I do not see how this is any of your business."

"It is my business because I know the man!"

"I know him myself, you know."

Bootstrap's voice lowers into a rasp. "Not in the sense that I do! He is a cruel and wicked being! There is no kindness there and I would hate for you to mistake any act of benevolence as genuine."

"Do you think me a fool, sir? Not capable of handling myself around the Captain?"

"I am concerned that he will try to win you over just so he can satisfy his needs."

"You think me his whore?" Liliana backs away in shock. "Just like the rest?"

Bootstrap sends her a reprimanding glare. "Never. I would never think you to be so low. You are a woman of class. But sweet words and empty promises can lead even the smartest of women astray. I am simply warning you to take heed. For I have witnessed the Captain's eyes upon you myself, you know. And the look he gives you is not one of innocence. The man has been without feminine touch for centuries now, and he eyes you with intent."

"I fear you have the Captain's intentions all wrong, Bill. He has, in no way, acted improper around me. He most certainly does not whisper sweet nothings in my ear when we are alone. In fact, he is most likely to yell his discontent at me."

"Sweet, innocent Liliana." Bootstrap cups her cheek with a cold hand. "I fear your trust in the Captain is misplaced. You have not witnessed the true man. Come, let me show you who he really is."

He leads her down into the very bowels of the ship, where no outside light has penetrated its walls for centuries and the air is stagnant and cool. A thin layer of water sloshes beneath their feet as they travel and Bootstrap informs her to be careful with her step.

"The floor is often slippery down here with the algae growing on it." He pauses to light a torch before opening a heavy wooden door. "This, Miss Liliana, is Jones' world."

He hands her the torch and holds his hand out into the room, suggesting she wander its blackened depths.

Holding the torch high to illuminate her surroundings, Liliana's eyes travel the room. She pauses at a heavy set of chains bolted to the wall. "What are these?"

"Shackles. A man can be held there to stand for weeks at a time, or to be flogged endlessly."

Liliana squints through the darkness to scrutinize Bootstrap's shadowed form. She continues on silently, eyeing more shackles along the wall, placed at higher levels.

"They will hang there, by the arms." Bootstrap's voice floats through the blackness. "Their feet do not touch the floor."

Liliana stifles a gasp, but quickly comes to the Captain's defense. Surely the man that had kissed her so softly is not the same man who would delight in torturing people. "Perhaps those individuals deserve such punishments if they behave in such a manner to end up here. Why, the Redcoats and other English noblemen have been known to do far worse to their prisoners, have they not?"

"Keep going." Bootstrap insists.

"Very well, but I don't see the…" Liliana's eye catches a glimpse of a darkened mass to her immediate right, instantly distracting her. It becomes visible as she walks towards it with the torch held high. She runs a hand along its rusted, metallic surface. Her fingers trace along intricate designs as she stares up in amazement at the detailed sculptured form of a woman's face. "What on earth is this?"

"An iron maiden."

Liliana turns to look at Bootstrap, but can no longer view him through the thick darkness. "What is it, some sort of sculpture? Made of…iron?"

"No, miss. See that latch there by your hand? Unlock it and pull it towards you."

Liliana does as she is told, but it will not budge. "It is stuck." She pauses when she hears the shuffling of Bootstrap's feet approaching.

His hand reaches into the light and with a hard tug, the rusted locking device gives way and the double doors creak open. He pauses to take in her expression, actually pleased by her shock upon viewing the inside. "This is a torture device. You see these spikes?" He presses a fingertip to one, "these are driven into the victim when the doors close. They are not placed to be lethal, no, they are placed to impale, to cause suffering and misery. Because we cannot die, the Captain uses this to get information. Just the threat of being placed in the maiden is enough to make anyone talk. The pain it causes is unbearable, I hear, I myself being fortunate enough to escape her grasp."

Bootstrap takes the torch from her hand and walks over to what appears to be a large table. As he approaches, the torch light exposes a large wooden handle with ropes and chains.

"What…what is that?" Liliana whispers, her throat becoming dry.

"This is the rack. Your feet and hands are chained at opposite ends and then this handle is used to tighten the ropes." Bootstrap demonstrates by pulling the handle, causing the ropes at either end to become wrapped around a large wooden roller. "'Tis another way for the Captain to get information, or if he's feeling up to it, to place the fear into his men. You're pulled in opposite directions until you cannot handle the pain any longer, God willing it is before your limbs are ripped from their sockets." Bootstrap then turns to the frightened girl. "Does this seem like something a good man would do to his men?"

"I don't understand. Why are you showing me this?"

"You need to know who you are dealing with. You must not be taken in by his false kindness. Do not try to deny that he has been slowly winning you over. For your own safety, do not fall victim to him! One false move and you will end up down here, crushed beneath the weight of the maiden! Do not trust him, Liliana!"

"But he would never do this to me!"

"What makes you so certain?"

"He cares for me!"

Bootstrap's eyes close tightly as he fears he is too late. "No, he does not. The man has no heart. He cut it out himself! How could he possibly care if he lacks the very organ responsible?"

"What do you mean, he cut out his heart?" Liliana finds her back pressed up against the cool, moist wall of this wicked room.

"Long before you or me, before he turned into the monster he is now, a woman broke that same heart after promising him immortality. He had loved her and she did not deliver what was promised, and that was herself. So in his agony, Jones carved out his own heart and stored it away from the world. Never to feel again. That is why he is such a beast, that is why you cannot trust him. Do not fool yourself into thinking he cares for you, when he will despise you for being the same thing she was. A woman. If anything, he is trying to lure you in to harm you just for being so. He can no longer get his revenge on her, so he will take it out on the next available thing."

Her mind races back to the moment his lips embraced hers. She is reminded of the warmth that grew there and of how his hand gently ran through her hair, his fingers pausing to allow gentle curls to wrap around them. His soft and delicate touch could never change into this. "No! You were not there! You do not know what he really is! You cannot scare me!"

"I am not trying to scare you. I am telling you the truth. I am trying to warn you."

"He may treat all of you this way, but he does not with me." She yells bitterly as she travels towards the door, examining the outside glimmer of a lantern.

"That does not make him a good man. He will harm you the minute you disobey."

"I have had enough of this conversation."

"Just promise me you will be safe."

She does not answer him. Instead, she turns and exits the room as fast as her feet can carry her. Her heart begins to race as she ascends the stairs in a panic. In that pounding heart, she knows that Bootstrap is just concerned for her. But also, deeper within, she knows he is wrong about Davy.

Her mind swirls with the overload of information. Had he really cut out his own heart? Gasping, she falls breathless to the floor. She thinks back to the night she had watched him undress, the vivid image of the scar on his chest flashes through her mind.

"It's true!" She pants heavily, still struggling to fill her lungs with air. And if that is true, perhaps Bootstrap wasn't trying to scare her, perhaps he is right about the Captain. But how can that be? The man has never laid a hand on her to harm. His touch has always been assertive but kind.

Her tightly shut eyes are forced open when a hand is placed under her chin. She shrieks and falls back, staring up at the Captain who now kneels before her.

"Ye have heard his side, now ye will hear mine." He eyes her with worry, his face unable to hide the sorrow. His hand reaches out to her, offering to help her stand.

"How did you know? Please don't hurt him!" She pauses and considers her own safety, "I didn't know he was going to tell me all that! I didn't realize what he was going to say."

Davy places a finger over her lips to silence her. "Do ye believe him?"

She stares up at the man before her, his writhing beard twisting impatiently around itself as he waits for her response. But his eyes, they are soft and pleading. The same look he held the moment before she kissed him the second time.

"Do ye believe him?" He repeats himself.

The answer comes to her instantly. "No. He doesn't know you. Not like I do."

He grasps her hand and helps her to her feet. "Come, it is time I tell ye everything."


	15. Chapter 15

_MATURITY WARNING_

_Author's Note__: If you are bothered by mature art/writings, it is best you skip this chapter. I have focused more on the feelings and emotions of the act rather than describing the actions and descriptions that can be offensive to some readers. Keeping that in mind, this is an erotica chapter. It is NOT meant for sensitive readers or underage readers._

_This is a sensitive chapter. Please do not read if you are easily offended by sexually oriented material. It is not graphic, it is not explicit. It is romantic erotica. I've spent a lot of time developing the chapter around the erotica, it's not just sex._

He led her back to his cabin, all the while carefully observing her maintained distance from his side as they walked. Upon noticing this, he had to fight back the broiling anger that swelled deep inside the pit of his stomach, the desperate urge to grab a hold of Turner and throttle him till his brain rattled inside his skull. No, that intense reaction would not do in this situation. The girl is already frightened enough.

It had taken weeks to get her to the point of trust she was finally at, and now she is back to the beginning. All because the truth had slipped out from an uncontrolled source. A truth he wanted to keep hidden from her, or at least tell her himself in the distant future. He was now left with no choice, for this questioning girl would never give him a moment's rest if all her concerns were not answered. He must tell her the truth.

He sat her down on the organ bench and then told her everything. About the woman that betrayed him, how she promised the world and took it away so coldly. He explained why and how he removed his heart and where he buried it. He informed her of how he must go back to it once every ten years and why he cannot set foot on land until that time. And finally, he told her of his crushing agony and how he wanted every soul on the planet to suffer along with him. Davy finished his life story with a heavy sigh, as if spilling all of this to the girl actually brought relief, and looked to her for her response.

"Well," she muttered while avoiding his gaze, "I am very much overwhelmed by all this information."

"I did not mean for ye to find out this way." Davy speaks softly while reaching for her hand. When she tries to pull it away, he firmly holds it in place on her lap.

"I must say, I do not pity the crew after the manner in which they so foully treated me, but…why? Why would you go to such measures, Davy?"

"These men are with me for a century or more, they must know who is in charge. And sometimes a Captain must strike fear into the hearts of their crew to gain respect. If these men - some of which were criminals before I even took them aboard - if they do not fear me then I will never have full control. I cannot risk a mutiny, Lily. These men make no earnings, they are captive. But they are here by choice, ye see. They all must learn that their choices brought them here. If they are to serve me, then they must serve me well. Do not take it to heart what Turner said. Only a few have had the unfortunate luck to be punished in such a manner. And no one has seen that room in decades."

Liliana heaves a heavy sigh while still trying to avoid Davy's searching gaze. His cold hand reaches out to grasp her chin, forcing her russet eyes to his. In mere seconds, she is held captive by him, unable to look away. His expression is one mixed with sorrow and desperation to make her understand.

"There are other ways to gain respect." She finally states after breaking the strength of his invisible hold over her.

"Pray tell, how am I to get these hate-filled and angered souls to respect me without driving fear into their hearts." Davy pauses when she tries to pull away from him again. "I want ye to know that I would never treat ye like the crew..."

"What makes me different? I work for you just the same. Why am I excluded from your enforced respect?"

Davy lets out a sarcastic snort as he smiles. "I wish I knew the answer to that myself. Ye are the most bizarre little creature I have ever come upon. Everyone else on this planet I loathe, but ye… calm me down. It's very infuriating and I wish I could fight it. For some reason, ye bring peace to me."

"Is that not a good thing?"

"I'm not sure. It scares the hell out of me at times, for I am accustomed to being tortured."

"That is no way to live, Davy."

He abruptly changes the subject once he recognizes it has now focused on him. "So ye are not afraid? Ye have not changed your mind because of what ye've seen and heard?"

Liliana reaches out to run a finger down between his eyes, the flat and smooth flesh where his nose used to be, and then pauses with her fingertip pressed to his lips. "I'm not exactly sure why, but I don't fear you and I respect you without having to be tortured."

Davy lets out a laugh as he stands, "Very well then. Hmm, remind me not to be bent over for so long," He rubs the muscles of his human leg, "'tis not an easy thing for a man my age."

"Now that we are being completely honest, Captain, how old are you?"

"What happened to calling me by my name?"

"You are avoiding my question." Liliana giggles at his frown.

"Old enough." He pats her cheek with the palm of his hand. He then turns to settle in for the night, removing his hat and coat and setting it down on his desk.

Liliana examines the form fitting clothing that was hidden under the barnacle smeared coat, her eyes being drawn to his backside. She shakes her head as she is overcome with an unexplained urge. A profound and penetrating desire flows over her from deep inside her. She recalls the beads of water that ran down his muscular back that night she secretly watched him undress. The same desire to touch that firm body hits her now with an even greater force.

"May I ask you something?" She mumbles after swallowing hard. She takes a seat on the bench to stop her knees from quaking.

"Aye." He says as he continues to move around the room, tidying the items he had taken out during the day.

"Now that we've…I mean…well, you know." She pauses when she feels the heat rushing to her cheeks. "What are we now?"

Davy pauses to examine her carefully, and choosing his next words with the same caution. "Does it change things?"

"Well, yes. You kissed me, and that sort of action usually suggests some sort of desire on behalf of the kisser." She says while raising her feet up onto the bench and crossing her legs in front of her.

"Yes, but must I remind ye that I was kissed in return?" He sends her a wicked little smile.

Liliana clears her throat as she remembers becoming caught up in the moment of passion. "No, you do not have to remind me. I clearly remember my actions."

Davy sees his opportunity to tease her, "Ah! This means ye wanted to! This means ye wanted to have fun with the ol' squid man, aye?" Walking back over to her, he clicks his claw together as if he is about to pinch her.

"Well, you certainly did not object in any way!" She giggles as she pushes the massive arm away with minimal force.

"Oh, but I did! I tried to stop, but ye just couldn't keep your hands off me! Or to be more accurate, your lips!"

Liliana pauses to examine his smiling face. She recognizes the naughty little grin. But instead of allowing him to annoy her, she just smiles up at him.

"What?" Davy examines her carefully, scrutinizing her smile to see if possible malice lay beneath. The last woman to smile at him like this did so with such perfection that he was unable to catch her sinister thoughts she so immaculately masked.

"Bootstrap said you do not have feelings. Is this true?"

"That was the intent of my actions. But nay, I am not completely devoid of all emotion. I shan't be, I suppose, if I have retained them this long. And ye, my dear, seem to make it worse somehow."

"Perhaps you never truly rid yourself of them, just buried them deep inside." She pauses to smile up at him again. "How do you feel about me?"

"Ye annoy the hell out of me." He states bluntly with a dismissive shrug.

"No! Stop trying to start an argument! Tell me the truth."

"That was the truth! I cannot help it if ye do not accept it in its proper fashion!"

"Davy. You kissed me. And through all your anger, you have taken care of me. Surely that means something." She reaches out and runs a caressing finger down the backside of his human hand, her touch instantly causing it to ball up into a protective fist.

"I…uh…" He pauses to clear his throat before becoming frustrated, "Why does it matter to ye? After hearing and seeing all of that today, why would ye care?"

"Because I know that is not you. That is a symptom of your hurt and anger. I do not understand it, but I will accept it. But the man that kissed me two weeks ago is not the same man that you've been portraying all these years. There's much more to you, Davy Jones, and you've hidden it away. But I caught a glimpse of it, and I want to see more. You are not what you have become." She reaches for his hand and turns it over to examine it, running her fingertips over the suction cups found there.

"Ye are very forward. Touching my hand and all." He mutters with a rasping voice.

"How so?" She does not make eye contact, instead still focusing on the rough and weathered skin on his hand.

"One would think ye have intentions of your own, miss."

"What if I do?" She looks up at him, her chocolate eyes now heavy lidded.

""T'would be highly improper! Women are not supposed to make advances."

She lets go of his hand, allowing it to fall back clumsily to his side. "Very well."

"I didn't say stop!"

"Be careful how you tease, Captain Jones, for it may backfire and bite you on the behind." She giggles behind her hand now covering her mouth, hiding the immense pleasure she found in tormenting him.

"Ye yanked my chain just there, didn't ye? Such a tease!" Davy takes a seat next to her on the bench, never removing his scrutinizing gaze from her face. "Ye are unlike any woman…"

"How many women have you come across over the years?"

"I…" He pauses to think, realizing the only women he has seen have been dead or put out of their misery for their own sakes. "Not many."

"You still have not answered any of my questions." She unfolds her legs and turns to face him.

"Questions?"

"Yes. What are we and how do you feel about me?"

He lifts his heavy shoulders and allows them to fall into another burdened shrug. "I don't know what we are or if I even want to define it. A kiss does not render us a couple."

"Very well, now how do you feel about me?" She leans in closer to his face.

"I already told ye, but ye did not like the answer."

"Oh, would you just stop?" Her patience over flowing, Liliana turns her back to him and folds her arms in disgust.

"This is difficult for me! After all these years, it is incredibly challenging for me to face this. Ye DO annoy me! Because for the first time in centuries, I feel something I thought I would never feel again! And as hard as I try, I just cannot make it go away."

"What is it that you want to make go away?" She turns her head to glance at him over her shoulder.

"I don't know! Lust! Affection! Desire! I don't know!"

"Davy, those are all natural emotions and it is good that you have them! It means you still retain some of your humanity and it's wonderful that you cannot fight it. If you feel it, then let it be." She reaches over and grabs his face, pulling him closer, "it is alright if you feel that way about me, because I feel the same for you."

He pulls back slightly to eye her under his furrowed brow. "Ye do?"

"Yes!" She gently pulls his head back to its original position. "I do."

His azure eyes dart around the room before settling on her again. A slow smile creeps onto his lips before he speaks again, "why?"

"UGH!" She pushes him away to throw her hands in the air. "I'm starting to wonder that myself!"

"Don't ye dare…" He reaches for her and pulls her in to meet his lips.

Under the divine pressure of his mouth, she feels any resistance melt away effortlessly and her lips part eagerly for him. This time, his kiss becomes more passionate, with a hungry fervor to explore her with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. He presses his lips hard against hers while pulling her body closer. A slight whimper escapes from her throat, telling him of her approval and her need for him to continue.

Her heart begins to pound beneath her chest as her own arms reach around his thick neck. A hot flush of desire overpowers her body as an unexplainable urge pools deep inside her as she allows his tongue to dance with hers. She presses back now to show him her eagerness to continue. This elicits a deep groan from within his chest, which only adds to her excitement to know he is enjoying the taste and touch of her.

Her mind repeatedly tells her this is inappropriate, but her heart tells her the conflicting opposite. It whispers to her, reminding her of the crushing loneliness and her aching to feel wanted. This man she should fear is now comforting her in a way she so desperately yearns for. In his arms so strong and masculine, she feels needed now. With the splendid pleasure of his tender kiss, his ever tightening grasp and knowing she is desired, she feels a hunger growing for him. An incessant craving that only he can quench, in the only way a man knows how.

Now pressing his chest hard against her own, she sighs softly at the growing warmth that replaces his ever present coolness. His grip is possessive and strong, full of heated desire. She feels safe under the weight of his massive arms, those same arms that could easily harm her, now gently caressing and protecting her body. But she is soon disappointed when he suddenly pulls away from their reverie.

"Why must you do that?" She moans with dissatisfaction.

"I must or this will quickly become extremely inappropriate." His voice escapes in a husky rasp as he leans his forehead against hers.

She waits with her hands still resting on his shoulders. Worrying her lower lip, she considers how inappropriate her next question will sound. "What if I don't want you to stop?" She whispers as he lifts his head to smile at her.

"It is not proper. We are not married and I do not want to sully your good name. Ye are a lady after all." The Captain examines the disappointment on her face before cupping his hand on her cheek. "As much as I really, really want to lie with ye, I must, I am afraid, resist. It is for your own good, love."

"But what name do I have? I have no past, for I do not remember it. And, am I not dead? Who would marry me now? So there is no name to dishonor. Society cannot reject me for my choices when I no longer belong to it. Besides," she reaches up to stroke his cheek, "I need you. I need you to make me feel safe. You are all that I have in this wretched world. No one else cares in the slightest about my safety or well being, but for some reason, you do. Surely there is nothing wrong with it when you see it from my point of view."

"I do not want to force you to do anything ye do not want to do."

"I am not the one resisting." Liliana whispers softly, mere inches from his lips. "Don't you want to relax? To just forget about everything outside that door and drop all proprieties for once and be absolutely foolish and disregard all consequence? Surely it must be exhausting to be so proper," she pauses to gaze into his eyes, "and so very lonely."

Davy's eyes close tightly upon hearing her last words, and his head lowers as if he can no longer bear the agony of his solitude. For centuries now, he has hidden it away, but it always found its way back to the surface to torture him. Her comprehension of his suffering lowers his resistance completely. She understands him more than he had realized.

Liliana takes his weathered face into her hands, directing him to look at her. "I know your pain, I am so very lonely, Davy." She murmurs as she blinks back tears that cling to her eyelids. She leans in and begins to feather gentle kisses across his face, hoping her lips will remove all traces of sorrow from his expression.

He remains silent for a few minutes, allowing her lips to brush lightly across one side of his face to the other. Within his inner core, he feels a radiating warmth build inside him. Blood begins to move into veins that have been dormant for centuries. He lets out a groan as her hand moves beneath his beard to caress his long neglected neck. As his breathing begins to quicken, a wonderfully familiar but long forgotten ache strikes his loins. He pulls away and looks down.

"Davy? What is wrong?" Liliana questions the bewildered look upon his face.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Huh…seems like something I thought had died has come back to life." He points towards the hardened bulge being restrained under his breeches.

"Is that a good thing?" Liliana stifles a giggle and moves in to continue kissing his face.

"It's a very good thing." Davy laughs quietly as he pulls her body closer to his. "Hmm, does this mean I get to see your front side now?"

Liliana slaps his arm playfully and pulls from his grasp. Standing, she walks away.

"What? What did I do wrong now?"

She turns and smiles when she reaches the bed, curling her index finger for him to join her. She instructs him to take a seat, and when he does, she stands before him. "I know this may seem improper, but you are all that I have and…"

Davy presses a finger to her lips to silence her. "No more talking."

His hand reaches around the small of her back to pull her body into his. She melts into his arms, pleased by the sensation of warmth that now greets her. Her skin tingles as his fingers dive beneath the fabric of her shirt, the palm of his hand caressing her smooth skin beneath. A few tentacles wrap tightly around her wrists, holding her gently in place before him.

He pauses to look up at her, examining her face for any signs of reluctance. He does not see any and then kisses the knuckles on one of her hands. He turns the little hand over and kisses her palm and then her fingertips. Again he pauses to gaze up at her.

"Ye are beautiful," Davy says in a low, husky voice, "I want to see ye."

Liliana's heart skips a beat at his request. Her throat goes dry, rendering her unable to respond. Instead, she nods nervously.

"Do not be nervous. I will take care of ye." He places one final kiss on her fingertips before he reaches for the loosely hanging fabric around her waist. He releases her wrists and lifts the shirt up over her head, exposing her breasts to him for the first time.

She stands there, soaking in the heat of his appreciative gaze. Never has she felt more beautiful than in this erotic moment; his eyes tell of his satisfaction. It gives her strength to know he is accepting of her appearance. The normally timid girl feels like she can now blossom into a confident, sexual woman, all because this man desires her. His hand reaches up and removes the piece of string that was holding her auburn locks in place, allowing her hair to flow freely down upon her shoulders. Gentle wisps lie curled on top of her exposed breasts, creating a feast for his eyes to behold. The candle light casts gentle dancing shadows on her exposed skin, making her look incredibly delicious.

His hand slides around her back and pulls her forward. Her head falls back as his lips come into contact with her exposed flesh. His mouth gently sweeps down her neck and across her collarbone. His arms tighten around her waist as he pulls her into the bed. She lies beneath him, silently gazing into his eyes and reveling in the pleasure of feeling his weight above her.

He reaches up to remove some tousled hair from her face. His azure pools gleam with lust under his heavy eyelids. He craves the taste of her now that he has kissed her skin. The urge to ravish this girl is strong, but he knows he must take his time with her. Every instinct in his body is calling for this release. But this is Liliana, his delicate flower sent to save him. He must take his time to show her how gentle he can be, that he is not the monster she was informed about. At least he will never be with her. Davy takes her hand again and kisses each fingertip once more. It was very long ago, but he can still recall his first time and how confusing it was. He does not want that for his Lil. No, she must be swept off her feet, made to feel like the queen she is. She must not feel awkward or uncomfortable under his weight. This has to feel right.

He smiles at her softly. "Nervous?"

She nods slightly. "I'm not even sure if I am a virgin."

"There was no ring on your finger when I found ye, sweetheart. So I would say it is safe to assume ye are."

"Is it going to hurt? I seem to recall how it works, but…"

"Shh." Davy balls her hand into a fist and kisses it softly. "Ye do not need to worry. It may hurt at first, but I will take it slow. Ye just let me do all the work."

"I trust you."

Davy lowers his head to kiss her lips again. Noting the slight tension that had built up, he gently caresses the bare skin on her shoulder until she finally relaxes again. His lips slowly travel down her cheek to the sweet curve of her neck. In there, he inhales the feminine scent of her, paying close attention to the heated flesh beneath his lips.

"Davy, I want you to teach me. Teach me what it means to be a woman." She whispers softly to him.

He pulls away and tries desperately to hide his growing smirk, but fails. "Where should your first lesson begin, my love?"

"I rather enjoy this kissing part. But tell me what you will do and what you expect of me."

"Very well," He smiles as he leans in to continue kissing her neck. His voice is muffled as he speaks into her hair after inhaling its scent deeply. He had forgotten the smooth, inviting texture of female hair. "I am going to continue to kiss ye, but as I do, I will head south. If I am pleased with how your breasts taste, which I do not doubt in the slightest that I will, I will move on from there. Alright?"

She nods as he returns to her neck. He begins sucking and nibbling on her earlobe, which causes her to giggle from the sensation. Instead of correcting her for it, he decides to enjoy the sound of her laughter, almost feeling happiness himself for the situation he has found himself in. Laughter and lust. Two things he thought he'd never have again.

Liliana takes his human hand, gently caressing the worn flesh that has now become penetrated with the curse. Her mind races with these newfound desires, as a lovely warmth begins to form between her thighs.

"I want to touch ye." He whispers into her ear and she shivers from the heat in his voice. She takes his hand and guides it towards one of her breasts.

The couple collectively gasps at the gesture; she enthralled with the touch of his hand to her swollen breast and he overwhelmed with the warm smoothness filling his grasp. Again she is flooded with incredible sensations as his lips come in contact with the taut nipple of her other breast. She moans softly as his hand kneads and his mouth caresses, informing him of her pleasure.

She slides a hand down the back of his shirt, her fingers finally in contact with the hardened muscles of his shoulders. Those same shoulders she witnessed bare and soaked with rain. She smiles to herself at the thought of how beautiful his body is, and now that body is lying on top of her. She massages away the tension she finds underneath her fingers, and to her satisfaction, he relaxes and releases a pleasured moan.

The yearning to see that naked torso again becomes too much to handle, she slides her hand around to his front and begins to work the buttons of his vest and shirt. "You, my dear, have far too many layers on." She teases when she cannot free him completely of his clothing. "I want to see you like you have seen me."

"Ye do?" He reluctantly pulls himself away from her breast. "I'm not exactly…"

"You cannot be clothed for this if I am to be naked!" She pauses and smiles to reassure him, "I want to see you."

"Very well," he mumbles impatiently as he lifts the half unbuttoned garments over his head. Tossing them to the floor, he quickly heads back to his task.

"No, no! You got to see me, I want to see you." Liliana laughs as she pushes him back. She notices the apprehension in his eyes, and quickly tries to reassure him. "On your back and relax. Let me see you."

He closes his eyes as he leans back, obviously trying to avoid the situation.

Instead of telling him what he will not accept as true, despite her believing it, she allows her fingertips to tell him how she feels. Gently, she traces along the rolling strength of his upper arm, up across the broad width of his shoulder and then down the flat plane of his chest. She then examines the spread of the curse on his left arm, noticing it stops directly at the shoulder. She recalls him stating that there is hardly any sensation in his claw, but his breath seems to quicken as she caresses it softly.

In the darkened room, she can make out what appears to be a scar beneath his beard.

"So it is true." Liliana whispers as she moves the beard of tentacles aside to expose a ragged and puckered scar that travels from his collarbone to his upper abdomen. Her hand trembles as it descends down the length of the wound. In this tender moment, as he exposes his deepest emotional and physical wounds to her, she becomes overwhelmed by his pain. Leaning in, she presses her lips to the scar.

"So ye see what a monster I have become." Davy says with his eyes still tightly shut.

"You are no monster. You are beautiful." She whispers softly as her hand travels down the length of his abdomen. She revels in the feel of the hardened muscles and the sweet belly button that she had adored that night. It is then she notices the bulge still present beneath his breeches. "Is that uncomfortable?"

"Very much so." Davy finally relaxes enough to let out a sarcastic laugh. He pulls her shoulders so she is returned to lying flat on her back. "If it doesn't bother ye, I would much rather set it free instead of keeping it so cruelly confined."

Liliana's heart once again begins a nervous racing as she watches him unbutton the front of his breeches. She is amazed at the sight of his hardened arousal jutting out from his body; she never could have imagined it would appear such as this.

His arms wrap tightly around her as he kisses her face to reassure her. "Touch me."

Without much thought, she does as she is commanded. She wraps her hand around his width and is surprised at the velvety smoothness beneath her fingers.

"Now stroke gently." He whispers in her ear in between kisses.

Again, she does as she is told. Instantly she recognizes what it means to be a woman. Just by her lightest touch, he has completely relaxed and is moaning with pleasure. His hand has since ducked down under her pants and now cups and squeezes the plumpness of her backside. He instructs her on the tightness of her grasp and her speed, all of which are complimented by more deep-throated moans. Liliana finds herself inexplicably wanting to please him in this way, enjoying his reaction with every passing second. He calls her name, which excites her further. Holding his masculinity in her hands has amazingly made her feel powerful.

"Okay, stop." Davy moans with slight laughter in his voice. "Or else I'll be useless." He rolls over and gazes into her eyes, his azure pools filled with lust. "Now that you know how to please a man, I believe it is your turn. And this is the most important lesson of all, my dear."

Using his hand and claw tips, he quickly removes her breeches. She is unable to stifle the gasp of pleasure as his hand comes in contact with her womanhood. Her back arches as his fingers gently caress the darkened curls on her cleft. He begins to massage the tender bud within and her moans of pleasure become louder. Never before has she felt something so powerful. A raging inferno begins to build within her as her body become rigid and tense. Within minutes, under the divine pleasure of his careful and methodical touch, her body releases into an explosion of fire and intensity. She is left breathless, gasping for air, and wanting something more.

"Davy! Now!" She calls to him as he positions himself above her body.

"Hush, we're taking this slow. Just relax…" He whispers in her ear as he gently enters her body. He remains still as her body becomes tense. Feathering kisses along her brow, he whispers tender words of encouragement to her and she quickly relaxes and accepts the fullness of him.

He moves slowly at first so she can become accustomed to the feeling of his love making. Once she learns his rhythm, she begins to move her hips in unison with him. Moments pass and she allows him to quicken his pace, now comfortable enough to enjoy it herself. He kisses her passionately, drowning out her calls of ecstasy.

Her arms have wrapped tightly around him, and underneath her hands, a new tension begins to build within his muscles. Her hands can no longer massage it out of his body; she quickly realizes his need and begins to encourage him on. Within moments, it is his turn for climax, and years of built up anger and sadness escape with his release.

Fully spent, he collapses limply on her body. Slick with the sweat of their efforts, they gaze deeply into each other's eyes. Their lips meet in tender embrace before he rolls off and pulls her into his arms. Running his fingers through her tousled hair, she quickly drifts off to sleep. But he remains awake for the majority of the night, listening to the sound of her soft breathing and lying in amazement at this incredible woman in his life.


	16. Chapter 16

Her lungs expand as she breathes in the stale morning air. Any trace of the lust spent last night is no longer detectable. She remains still, with her eyes closed to the vivid memories that come flooding back to her. She had never imagined that the simple act of love making could be so intoxicating. To be possessed by a man had somehow oddly left her feeling liberated. No more will the crew harass her with their cruel jests and twisted practical jokes because now she means something to her protector. Davy will surely defend her now simply because of the bond they forged last night. They shared something so wonderful and sacred together, something only the two of them can have.

She takes in another deep breath to identify his masculine aroma, the same scent that had flooded her senses last night. But when her nose is only greeted by the smell of the wool blanket and the salty ocean breeze flowing in from an open window pane, she forces her eyes open to the empty space on the mattress. Stunned, she sits up and stares at the spot as if she expects him to appear there before her eyes.

Liliana looks to the window. The sun has been up for a few hours. She quickly scolds herself for allowing her foolish mind to think the Captain would relax long enough to hold her in his arms this morning. His duty will always come first. She sighs at the rejecting thought. Somehow, just once, she thought he'd put her before his daily obligations as commander.

The door swings open and his familiar footsteps carry him in through the shadows. The expression on his face is not one of pleasantries or even mutual affection. "Have ye no concept of time?"

"I…beg your pardon?" With his tone, Liliana instinctively pulls the blanket higher around her chest to cover her naked breasts.

Davy points his hand towards the window while staring at her in his normal perturbed manner.

"Yes, the sun has risen," Liliana pauses, "Good morning to you." She states flatly, hoping he has just forgotten his new set of manners when it comes to addressing the woman he is now courting. It has been a very long time since he's shared his life or his bed; surely he has simply forgotten that a woman requires a particular finesse.

"There is no time for idle chitchat. I have a crew that is lacking in work ethic simply because they have not eaten yet today. So pray tell, when will ye be feeding my crew?"

Unable to stop her jaw from descending, she lets it hang agape. "Is that all I mean to you? Your servant? After last night?"

His response is a quick turn of his back.

"Davy!"

Seconds pass that feel like hours to them both. "Last night. Last night was a mistake. I should not have allowed myself to become so," he pauses to nervously fidget with the collar of his coat, "involved with ye. I apologize for my indiscretion and the tarnishing of your honor, miss. It will not happen again let me assure you. In fact, I have decided ye deserve your own quarters, so I will have a small space prepared for ye."

"Have you gone completely mad?" Her voice shakes with anger and shock. "How dare you call what happened last night a 'mistake'?"

"Because it was and it never should have happened." Davy walks over to where her clothes were passionately removed last night. He picks them up and tosses them to her on the bed. "I'll be needing ye in the galley now."

With that, he quickly storms out of the room, leaving Liliana in complete astonishment. "But you needed me last night…"

* * *

><p>"Look out below!"<p>

Liliana jolts at the shouting voice followed by the loud crash of a bucket full of pitch tar. Her eyes slowly travel up the height of the mast to see one of the men descending at a rapid pace. Breathless when he lands, he quickly hurries towards her. She had been staring blankly at a colony of barnacles growing in an algae-smeared corner, their cemented bodies creaking open habitually to allow the soft crustacean bodies to magically flow in the air like blades of grass on a wind-swept meadow. She had marveled at how free they appeared while being so captive.

"Miss Liliana. Yer not hurt, are ye?"

"No…"

"By Satan's bollocks he'd have my hide if yer hurt…"

"I'm fine." Liliana raises her voice impatiently, irked at being certain that the Captain would not care if she were harmed in the slightest.

"Oh. Well…be more careful." The man wags a stubborn finger in her face. "Ye shouldn't be wandering underneath us when we're working on the mast, ye know that. Ye were lucky something bigger didn't fall on ye. Or even worse, someone coulda pissed on ye." He shrugs dismissively.

Disgusted by the comment as well as Davy's response this morning, Liliana turns her back and walks away, determined to avoid contact with anyone who is in possession of a penis. "Why do you even care? Just leave me be." She heads over to the side and leans over. Her level of annoyance only increases when she hears his footsteps approaching.

"'Tis not my place to say, but ye seem like such a chipper person, miss. At least ye usually do. Today, ye seem to be disgruntled in some way."

Liliana turns in disbelief, staring at the man before her, examining his cursed face with deep scrutiny. "Koleniko, is it?"

"Aye Madame, the one and only." He gives her a polite bow that seems to brim with sarcasm. He notices the slight smile she tries to hide. "Ah! Ye can't hide that from me. Ye see, this big ol' fish eye doesn't miss much, ye know." He taps a finger to the right side of his face.

"Tell me Koleniko, why are you being so courteous? Everyone else treats me as if I am the sludge they scrape off the hull. My bodyguard will probably be the first one to toss me overboard. What makes you so different?"

"Well, miss. Not sure if ye noticed, but I am a gentleman." He pauses to polish his spiky knuckles against his shirt as if it will remove the many years of dirt and hard labor stained on them. "I've also been reputed to be a lady's man as well, but we'll keep that a secret. Don't need the gents getting jealous and all, they'd be wantin' to know my secrets."

"Can't have that..." Liliana finally smiles freely at his attempt to make her laugh.

"Nigh! The lady secrets stay with me. Women are like puzzles, and I'm a master at figuring them out. But I digress. No miss, I shall not treat ye like bottom feeding sludge because more of that stuff covers me than ye could ever hope to become. Ye also take no bull from anyone, yer strong and I admire that. That and ye feed me, and as such I am bound to be grateful. And the one true way to a man's heart, even an ol' bilge rat like m'self, is through his stomach. One gets mighty tired of sucking down raw sardines."

"I can imagine." Liliana's stomach churns slightly at remembering the first time she tried them. "I am glad you appreciate me. No one else seems to." She sends a nasty glare towards the tentacled man standing at the helm. Unfortunately, it just passes right through him, his cold, penetrating eyes never leaving the horizon ahead of him.

Koleniko walks over to join her by her side. "Don't let the Captain bother ye. Hell, he can be pricklier than I am." He inflates the many spines on his shoulder, causing them to stand on end.

"Are you calling the Captain a prick?" She whispers in a low, giggling voice. The idea that someone could hate him as much as she does right now is a pleasing one.

"Never, Madame! And I am shocked that ye would even use such language! A lady such as yerself." Koleniko feigns disgust.

"Oh please. There is no more lady left in me. She has been all but destroyed. In fact, she died late last night."

Koleniko puts a sarcastic hand over his heart and pouts. "May God bless 'er soul."

"Shut it." A laugh is forced from her throat. "Well if you are so smart, tell me, how can I get on the good side of the crew?"

Koleniko looks out to the vast horizon in front of them. He gives a contemplative nod as if his thoughts are deep and meaningful. "Lose a few articles of clothing."

"That is not happening!"

"T'would work." He gives a dismissive shrug. "They'd appreciate ye handsomely."

"I doubt that. They'd only treat me like a harlot. And take what they want and never look back."

"Aye, that is the pirate way. 'Tis a shame an innocent woman can become caught up in the mix. Just don't let them…or him…take advantage of ye." He gives a nod of the head towards the helm.

"I know what you all think I am here for. I know you all think I am the Captain's harlot. But let me assure you that I am no whore." Liliana speaks to remind herself of this fact. This morning's mistreatment has only made her feel as if she is.

"No miss, I do not think ye are his whore. 'Tis just what's been going around, ye see. Don't make it true, now does it? Men are bound to jump to such carnal conclusions. Probably because they wish it was the truth for themselves. See now, I know there are a few men here that appreciate yer female form."

"Really? You all have been talking about me behind my back?"

"Alas, ye are the new member on board. Therefore ye will be the topic of gossip for a while. The fact that ye are female only makes it worse."

"So the conversations about me have been pleasant?"

Koleniko looks around nervously wondering if she will buy into his omission of the real truth. "Increasingly, Miss Lil."

"Miss Lil, I rather enjoy the sound of that. I can still be addressed as a woman but with fewer formalities. And if there is no need for formalities, does this not make us friends?"

"Aye, Miss Lil. I suppose it does indeed."

"And if my name is to be shortened, perhaps yours should be too. How does Niko sound?"

Niko's smile grows wider. "Sounds mighty fine, Miss Lil."

* * *

><p>During the day, Niko had brought her around to some of the crewmen who he considered would be friend and not foe. Meeting these men and finally knowing their names was a relief to Liliana. These names will now go with the familiar faces. Faces that once seemed so terrifying and horrific almost seem comforting now. At first, some of the men were nervous to be seen with her, afraid of what the others would think. But with the charismatic Niko by her side, they eventually warmed up to her. They got a chance to see that she was indeed a normal woman, one with a sense of humor and an ability to laugh along with their crude jokes despite being a woman of class. Many had commented on how odd this was. Liliana just shrugged and admitted it was peculiar for her as well.<p>

She had spent the evening after supper in the company of those same men. Niko, the bosun Jimmylegs, a couple of deckhands called Clanker and Hadras, Bootstrap and the navigator Greenbeard. They had been drinking the grog she prepared especially for them, and with the liquor came loose tongues.

"Yer a fool, Miss Lil, for being with a cold and sterile man like the Capt'n, ye should be with a man like me!" The bosun pulled her towards himself, the smell of rum heavy on his breath. "Now I could make ye happy!"

Liliana's face flushed a deep scarlet red at his forwardness, her breath taken away by the strength of his arm around her ribcage. "But, I'm not with…"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure she would just love ye Jim, yer as cuddly as a fuckin' rock." Clanker snorted and received a backhand from the insulted bosun that sent his hat flying to the deck.

"All I know is that since she's been around, life has been a little more bearable." Hadras stated in his thick Cantonese accent before swallowing that last of his grog. He looked at the bottom of his mug with disappointment.

"How so?" Liliana smiled in his direction while politely prying the bosun's calloused hand from her waist.

"The food." They all answered collectively.

"That and the Capt'n has been less of an ass to work for." Niko exclaimed freely. "Can't put a finger on it, but lately he seems less angry."

"Do we have the same Capt'n?" Clanker jokingly swatted Niko's chest with the backside of his hand. "I don't think we do."

"Well if ye weren't such a lummox the Capt'n would probably go easier on ye." Jimmylegs scoffed and finally realized that the girl had escaped his grasp. "Ah, ye can't get away that easily, sweeting!" He reached over and his huge arm engulfed her again.

"Unfortunately I must be heading off to bed." She gave him a polite smile while struggling with his thick fingers once more.

"Ye just got here and the night is young!" Niko pointed to the full moon that hung directly overhead. It had radiated a peaceful glow on the group of men, leaving them with no need of a lantern. Amongst these cursed men, there was a sense of tranquility she had not felt since arriving. They accepted her, even if alcohol forced their approval. She was just happy to have it.

"Yes, but if you all want to break your fast on time tomorrow morning, I must be off now."

She had longed to stay with them, longed to be in the company of others that made her laugh and forget about the night before. No longer welcome in his cabin, she was now left alone in an old stock room down the hall. She opened the door - which let out a piercing metal-on-metal screech - to a small box of a room that was just big enough for her mattress. Curling up in the blanket, she once again found herself bathed in the familiar loneliness that had become her closest companion.

This banishment is the cruelest of all his deeds. Last night, she fell asleep in his arms while breathing in the scent of his sun-kissed skin. He held her close, his arms forming a protective shield around her. His body finally radiated with warmth and it was comforting to bathe in it. Before her eyes closed for the final time that night, she noticed the lack of a heart beat and longed to hear it thudding against her ear. She fell asleep to the sound of his lungs filling with air, the continual rising and falling of his scarred chest lulling her to sleep.

Now alone, all she has is this rough wool blanket that doesn't compare to the softness of his touch. She wraps it around herself and closes her eyes to the world. Instead she relives the passion of last night, when he held her close and whispered sweet words in her ear. Such a shame all those words were lies, she corrects herself harshly. Another ache drives through her heart when she remembers what Bootstrap warned her about. How she wishes now that she had listened to his advice.

"Have fun making friends today?"

She opens her eyes to see him standing in the corner, barely visible in the dying light of her lantern. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. And I would prefer you knocked before you entered."

Davy reaches over and raps his knuckles on the wall. "Satisfied?"

"No." Liliana closes her eyes to him. "You are already in here."

"I warned ye not to get too close to the crew." The words come out harsher than he had planned. He had stood there in the shadows, watching them touch her in the moonlight. Deep inside the pit of his stomach, a burning jealousy ate away at him for the closeness they shared with her. The sound of her laughter was meant for his ears alone and now they were enjoying the sweet trill of her bubbly voice. The words 'she is mine' ran repeatedly through his mind until the very thought nauseated him. She was his, yes, until he rejected her this morning because of his fear of being abandoned again. His pain continues to keep him away from the one thing he desires most. Happiness.

"Yes that was back when they all thought I was bad luck. Now they see me as a woman."

"And that is not a good thing either! I saw them there with their arms around ye! Drunken and pathetic men who would give anything to be with ye!" He snarls viciously, making the wrinkles on his face appear deeper.

A twinge of outrage flickers inside Liliana and she is forced to sit upright and stare him down. "Are you jealous, sir? Do you not approve of some other man actually treating me like a woman instead of some servant or harlot?"

"Watch your tongue!" Davy's fist curls into a tight ball before relaxing again.

"I will not! Because I realize now what I mean to you. I am nothing but some petty possession that you will use for your own satisfaction. Never mind my needs or desires. Those men out there actually appreciate me for what I do for them."

Davy's fist repeats its tense flexing and releasing. His piercing glare never leaves her face. "They appreciate nothing! They are drunk and will tell you anything to get what they want."

Matching his enraged tone, she fights back the water forming on her lower eyelids, "And the only difference between them and you, is that you, sir, were not drunk last night!"

His anger boiling over, Davy strikes the wall with his fist. It sinks through the wood, sending splinters flying into the room. The sights and sounds of violence cause Liliana to curl into a ball and cover her ears and tightly shut her eyes. He spins around and points a now bloodied finger in her face. "Do not EVER assume that I used ye. This proves how little ye think of me!"

"You aren't exactly showing me any evidence otherwise! How else am I to feel? You threw me out of your room where I have always felt welcome. I gave you the one thing that was sacred and you never so much as said 'thank you' for the compassion I showed you. You took it from me with no regard for…"

" Do not try to accuse me of rape, or so help me… " Davy growls threateningly. "Ye offered it!"

"And let me assure you that what I offered you last night will never be offered again!"

"That is fine with me! It never should have happened in the first place. I never should have kissed ye! Hell, I never should have saved ye!"

His words burn her like fire. "Get out of my room!" Liliana screams viciously, hurting the back of her throat.

"Do not attempt to tell me what to do on my ship!" His raging voice hurts both their ears.

"Do not treat me like some common whore!"

"Dammit, Lil! Do ye want the truth? Well here it is! I don't trust myself around ye. Does that make ye happy to hear? The last woman that treated me with kindness took everything from me! And now I have ye doing the same and I find myself wanting it. Dammit, I can't have it! I don't trust myself around ye!"

She remains still while watching him gasp for air. His blackened blood now trickles smoothly down from his knuckles onto the floor. She allows a few moments to pass so he can calm down before she speaks. "It is not that you do not trust yourself. You do not trust me. You assume that I will be like her, that I will hurt you. That does not say much about what you think of me. I have told you how I feel about you. I have proven my loyalty."

"I cannot risk it again." He moans behind tightly closed eyes. The stabbing pain in his hand is finally being recognized.

"Well it is obvious that you are not willing to allow yourself to let go. It is obvious you will never trust me no matter what I give you. You are always going to place the anger and blame on me for the actions of another even though I have never done anything to harm you." She pauses to mournfully shake her head, "We will never be." She turns her back to him and covers herself with the blanket.

Taken aback, Davy stares at her back for endless minutes before mumbling, "I cannot trust either of us."

"Then I will be your servant only, and only in the galley. I will not be with a man who does not trust that I have his best interest at heart."

"I…I don't want to hurt anymore."

"Well, Captain Jones, that is up to you now. So if you please, I need my rest."

Davy mouths the formal address of his name to himself before exiting. "I'm sorry, Lil."

"Miss Liliana, Captain Jones. It is Miss Liliana." She says with her back still turned coldly to him. She opens her eyes to the gentle sound of the door shutting. In an instant the burning tears finally come flooding out. There will be no sleeping tonight.


	17. Chapter 17

"Another good 'un Lil."

Liliana glances up from washing the morning's soiled cooking pot and smiles to see Niko stuffing his mouth with the last available biscuit. The last harvest was of a cargo ship carrying supplies from the West Indies. There were no souls left to seize, but a loud cheer erupted from the wreckage when the crew found the remaining barrels of rum. Liliana was just content to finally have sugar, flour, new cloth for sewing and what the crew calls cacklefruit, or eggs.

There has been a stretch of placid weather over the passing weeks, with the burning Caribbean sun fighting off any wandering clouds. At times, the wind would cease altogether and the _Flying Dutchman_ would sit there, becalmed in the middle of nowhere for hours on end.

The day starts with air thick enough to smother the souls on board with its choking humidity, not a breath of wind passes over the deck to momentarily cool exposed skin baking in the heat. With the ship at a standstill yet again and plenty of rum on board, the crew quickly finds interest in other activities, despite the Captain's displeasure. No wind, no sailing, and therefore no work if the chores are completed.

"Dammit all to hell." Davy bellows ferociously as he enters the galley. He removes his peaked hat that offered little protection against the heat of the beating sun and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. "Will this becalming ever end? I cannot sit here and allow these men to have free time. They'll be smashed before noon."

Liliana instinctively wanders over to the hogshead of fresh water to scoop out a mug full for him to drink. A past heavy rainfall blessed them with a refill, she is thankful to see her reflection in the water's surface every time she opens the lid. The ship had been down to its last ration, causing Liliana to fret over the possibility of going dry.

The water is slightly stale, taking on the taste of the old wooden barrel. But it is still potable, even if it will not refresh him or his mood. She does this simple task blindly now, where she used to find joy in serving him. His pleasure made her happy but now neither seems to be able to smile in each other's presence. She slides it across the table without making eye contact and turns back to her cooking pot.

A thick tension has been hanging between them over the last few weeks. Words were exchanged that were burning to the soul and will not be forgotten anytime soon. Davy had hoped she would not be in the galley when he walked in, but somehow finds himself glad to be in her presence today. She had often walked out of any room or space he entered, but today she remains. Perhaps this means her anger is dwindling. He stares at her back that rejects him now, showing no signs of affection or forgiveness.

"Perhaps you should travel under water, Captain." Liliana offers a solution to his problem in a flat voice that smacks with the lack of caring.

"Nigh, still waiting for the new rigging to settle. If they are put under any stress, they'll snap for sure." Davy quickly swallows the contents of his mug and then examines the leftover crumbs on the table. Puzzled, he looks over to her cooled backside again. "Did the crew eat?"

"Yes."

"Before me?"

"You were nowhere to be found, Captain." Liliana sighs heavily. To be honest, she hadn't even looked for him. She can feel her temper flare as his footsteps grow louder with his approach.

"Nowhere to be found? Where could I possibly go?"

_To hell_, Liliana mutters under her breath. "I did not see you, Captain. I assumed you were using the facilities."

Davy's head jerks backwards at her blunt explanation. "Let me assure ye that I was not." He snorts, "And that is not very lady like, that kind of talk."

"Well, living with a bunch of cursed and stinking fish men will knock the lady right out of a girl." She slaps her rag down on the pot, forcing soapy water to spray out onto him. "That reminds me, I need more soap. Either that or some hog fat and lye. Which reminds me further that I need more firewood, I am running low."

"All of a sudden I am your servant? I am not the one to be telling your demands to! The crew gathers all that. And frankly, your tone as of late has been most inappropriate, speaking of matters that only men should discuss amongst themselves."

With that, her temper boils over, she turns and firmly places her balled fist on her hip. "Look. I have no other way of obtaining these items. I am completely reliant on you and your crew if I am to do my job properly. And these items are necessary if I am to run this galley the way you expect it." She raises her hand when he tries to interrupt her. "And furthermore, I am still very angry with you and I shall speak to you in the tone I prefer. If you expect me to remain a quaint, pleasant and polite little lady aboard this wretched ship, you are very much mistaken." She turns and purposely slaps the water out at him again.

He looks down to watch the frothy bubbles slide south along his vest. "Ye are out of place, woman. Ye forget who ye are talking to…"

"Oh I know who I am talking to. And I refuse to be your pretty little doll and clean up after you as well. How can I possibly do both? And I really do not care about how inappropriate I may be acting, or how unladylike I may appear. There is no way I can remain a refined lady in this situation. Because if I was a woman of class, I would never be doing manual labor such as this, and in men's garb no less. So you, sir, force me to be contradictory."

"Me? Dammit, Lil…"

"Miss Liliana." She corrects him harshly.

He reaches for her arm and spins her around to face him. "Ye will not correct me. And ye will remember your place. And dammit, where is my food? I want to break my fast!"

She jerks away from him to turn back to her pot. "Gone."

"What?"

"The food is all gone. Eaten."

He pauses to look around the galley in shock, as if someone may appear to support him in this futile battle. "What do ye mean it is gone?"

"You did not come when called for breakfast, so I assumed you would not be joining us. The crew complained of being extremely famished this morning so I gave it all to them."

"What? Why would ye do that? Ye know I always expect my meal!"

"Hmm, yes, you expect a lot don't you? Just like I expected something more from you and didn't get it." She spins to face him, her jaw set with anger.

Knowing he has been defeated, Davy allows his temper to cool slightly. There will be no winning this battle in a long and painful war. In the end, his decision weeks ago to deny himself to her will always force him to submit. "Why do ye women always have to drag up the past?"

"Because it is fun, we like to torture you with your own stupidity."

"So that's it then. I go hungry?"

"Yes. Yes you do." She pauses and turns back to her work, practically scrubbing a hole through the iron pot. "And you had better be here early for the next meal or else you will be going even longer without food."

He had stormed from the galley, swearing violently as he traveled. Any life form that was unfortunate enough to be caught in his path was smacked, pushed or kicked out of his way. His tolerance was completely gone. The foul words spewing from his lips caught the ears of everyone on deck and they instinctively removed themselves from his presence out of fears for their own safety.

"How dare she? Who in the hell does she think she is? How dare she speak to me in such a manner? How dare she treat me with such vulgar disrepute?" Davy growls acidly as he paces in a straight line across the length of the helm.

The navigator, Greenbeard, has seen this sort of outrage from his captain before and continues steering the ship with his ragged head turned straight ahead. Deep inside, a slight quiver of fear boils around on his innards as the chance of being struck is very likely at this time. Undeserved punishment is something the weathered and cursed man has seen and experienced regularly over the centuries.

"I would never allow my crew to speak to me in such a regard! Why do I allow her? That mouth of hers should have been shut a long time ago!" Davy continues his rant as if Greenbeard cannot hear it. "Since when have I not been able to put an ill tempered woman in her place? I'm telling ye, she's a witch! She has some sort of spell on me, rendering me powerless to harm her."

"Sir…" The navigator cautiously interrupts.

"What?" Davy snaps bitterly.

"Storm clouds coming in from the northeast, sir."

His mind clears with this new information brought to him, he walks over to the side rail to inspect the dark, ominous line along the distant horizon. A few bright flashes escape from its depths and low rumbling thunder follows quickly afterward. A heavy band of rain pours out from the belly of the storm. Tiny sparks of white dance up from the ocean surface, whitecaps that must be large if seen from this distance. He takes them in, making an estimate on the power of the wind creating them. Despite their age, his ancient eyes miss nothing.

"Dammit. I was pleased to have had the wind finally pick up. But I knew this would be coming because of it. We will go hard to port; we'll try to avoid her full strength by going where she's been. Head towards the leeside of that island there and anchor far enough from the reef. Hopefully we can get there before she gets to us." Davy turns to sound of approaching footsteps on the stairway. "Coxswain, prepare the ship for foul weather, batten down and tell the first mate to prepare the sails. Where the bloody hell is he?"

_Avoiding you_, Koleniko thinks to himself with annoyance. The sharp mind of the coxswain takes in the orders handed out and quickly looks past his superior to the growing storm ahead of them. Knowing his captain's foul mood, he ponders his next few words carefully before speaking. "Sir, as ye may well know, that storm is clippin' at an awful speed. Do ye think we'll outrun 'er?"

"There'll be no missing her. She'll get us either way." Davy utters carefully in a tone that both of his men recognize. One filled with caution and fear subdued by his duty to protect this ship. They are aware of his reluctance to deal with storms and his willingness to avoid even the slightest one if possible.

"Aye, sir. Umm," the coxswain pauses to swallow hard, "I have been called upon to request yer presence at tonight's meal, sir."

Davy's eyes shut tightly as a low growl emits from his chest. "So she's giving orders to my crew now, is she?"

"Well, no sir…I…"

"Dammit that woman is going to drive me to drink!" Davy's arms fly upwards in the air as he begins his frantic pacing again.

"Nice…I had him calmed…" Greenbeard growls under his breath at the stunned coxswain.

Davy spins around and points a finger into the coxswain's face. "Ye tell her that I'm not hungry! Ye tell her that I do not want her charity! Ye tell her to go to hell!"

"Ye…ye want me to tell a woman to go to hell?" Koleniko finds himself leaning back to escape the fury of the Captain's words.

"YES! It's not that hard, boy! I do it all the time!"

* * *

><p>"Oh really? He wants me to go to hell?" Liliana's voice rises above the clattering of utensils to plates. "You can tell him I'm already there!"<p>

The crew goes silent to witness every moment of this drama. They drink in the sight of a woman with her arms folded tightly across her breasts, standing there fuming over a man they despise as well. They indulge in the idea that a fragile young female would stand up to a man they have all cowered before. What an entertaining sight to see this girl transform from a helpless and delicate creature to one that will defend herself against the one person they all fear. Some chuckle at the thought while others praise her for finally getting a backbone.

"Uhh…I can't do that." Niko's cheek nervously puffs in and out slightly at the thought of how the Captain would react to her response, probably with a backhand to the side of the messenger's head.

A call out on deck brings everyone to their reluctant feet to prepare the ship for the onslaught of the coming storm. The crew exits, leaving Liliana and Niko alone in the galley. She quickly sets herself to cleaning up the chaotic mess left behind by the careless crew and smiles when she sees a spine covered hand reach over and begin collecting plates.

"I am sorry Niko. I should not have brought you into this. But I knew if I had gone up there myself, there would only have been another explosion, one for everyone to see." She fights back a burning sorrow as she scrapes the leftovers into the pot. One half of her wants to throw it all out to leave the Captain with an empty belly for the entire night, but the other, still loyal half of her knows he must be fed as he will surely be agonized with the lack of food.

She'd love to smack him now, but she doesn't want him to suffer. As mad as she is, her feelings remain unchanged; her fondness for the enraging and impossible man still grows despite her efforts to halt it.

"Don't let him fluster ye so, Miss Lil. He's not worth the energy spent doing so!"

"I wish your advice were as easy to perform as it sounds, but I am afraid I am already dreadfully flustered by that man."

Niko stops and eyes her closely with concern and suspicion.

"Not like that! Not at all. I am very angry and…"

"Ah, Miss Lil, ye can't lie to me," he interrupts. "I would have to be a blind and blubbering fool to not have seen the way ye look at him and not understand what it means. Though, I'm not sure why ye would. He's no good for ye Lil. He doesn't care and never will because he can't."

"He saved my life Niko. How could I not be grateful? Niko, I think I am in love with him." In her eagerness to free herself from her long hidden secret, Liliana blurts out her suppressed feelings without thought.

"Oh hell no. Lil, listen to me for Christ's sake! He didn't save yer life, he only prolonged yer death. Don't ye see, ye foolish girl? Yer his slave just like everyone else. Ye just have a different task to fulfill."

"No, Niko. I do not believe that is true." She states calmly as she takes a seat on the bench next to the table.

"Have ye slept with 'im?"

Liliana's hand travels upward to cover her heart. "I beg your pardon? I don't see how that is any of your…"

"Have ye?" Niko stares harshly at her while he criticizes the shocked expression on her face. "Ah, ye have. I can tell just by the way yer fidgeting there." He points to her fingers that have unconsciously begun picking at her cracked and broken fingernails. "Oh, Lil. Ye've gotten yerself in an awful mess."

"How have I?"

"He got what he wanted, didn't he? And now he treats ye like the dirt under his feet."

"Well, not really. It's not like that." She mumbles in his defense.

"Look, lovey, take it from a man. One who's heard plenty of stories about broken hearted women and the men that proudly brought on their misery. Yer a trophy, a goal achieved. The only reason ye were brought on board, and the only reason ye were treated well in the beginning for that matter, was to win ye over so that he could quench that never ending thirst we men all have for the fairer sex. Ye were nothing but a fun time for him. He'll never return his feelings for ye even if ye wanted him to, even if he could."

"No, you're wrong. He will someday, I know it! You don't see it, but deep underneath all that pain is a wonderful soul. He longs for freedom; I just have to figure out how to help him. He's just scared…" Her voice trails off as her throat goes dry.

"I'm not telling ye this to harm ye. I am telling ye this because I know how the male mind works. I consider ye a friend and I can see now that ye have fallen prey to him."

"You sound just like Bootstrap!" Liliana quickly stands and walks away.

"Wait…ye were warned before and didn't take heed? I thought ye were smarter than that, love."

"Both of you are wrong. You don't know him like I do. You don't see his vulnerability, or the way his eyes shine when he's alone with me. You only see the man who controls you because that is all you've ever known. But there is more to that man than just this ship and his past!" She steps to the side to brace herself as the first of the storm's waves begin to slam into the bow.

"Did it ever occur to ye that he charmed the hell out of ye so that ye'd only see the good and not the truth?"

"He would never! He is no monster."

"But he is a man. And men will do anything to get what they want."

"You talk as if you speak from experience, Niko." Liliana returns a harsh and critical stare.

"Nigh, I do not." Niko raises his hands in front of himself in defense. "I just know the way of the world. But hasn't it been bothering ye why he has suddenly changed his tactics? Why all of a sudden he's no longer charming ye up?"

Liliana's cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. "This is an incredibly inappropriate conversation. I wouldn't have this discussion with another woman, let alone with a man I barely know!"

Niko steps forward and takes her hand in his. "And yet yer having it because it's killing ye inside. It's tearing at ye to the deepest depths of yer soul that ye gave yerself to a man before marriage. Ye can't talk to him anymore because he rejected ye, so yer here with me, desperate to let it out. Ye've got no one else to trust."

"I only did it because I love him! And it's not like the act of love making is going to ruin the reputation of a dead woman."

"Ye keep telling yerself that and maybe the sting will go away. So, tell me then, at the time did ye assume he loved ye?"

"No!"

"But ye assumed that eventually he might?"

Liliana is left speechless by the truth. She is incapable of keeping her head from falling in despair.

"Now do ye understand what we are trying to tell ye? Ye allowed yerself to get caught up in the fantasy that he might love ye someday and ended up destroying yer virtue in the end. That's why we insisted that he was no good for ye and to be careful."

"Why do you even care? Why should it matter to you? I am nothing to anyone on this God forsaken ship! Why would it concern you whether I destroy my virtue or not?" Liliana rubs the back of her hand over her eyes to wipe away the stinging tears.

"I don't know why I care! I just do." He pauses to carefully examine the increasing roar of the wind outside before continuing. "As for Bootstrap, I don't know that either. Maybe he wants ye all to himself. To hell if I know. Now don't be cryin' over him, Lil. Yer stronger than that and ye can't let him see ye like this. Look, I have to get out there and help on deck before we end up at the bottom of the ocean. That new rigging may not hold well." He turns toward the door. "I am sorry I had to be so hard on ye, but someone had to tell ye how it is. I don't know what it is about ye Lil, but I feel like I need to protect ye somehow." He reaches back to sweep away a single tear as it travels down her cheek.

"I know." She sniffs, "I'm fine. Go."

She watches as he opens the door and the rain soaks him instantly. His cape flaps violently in the wind as he struggles to close the door behind him.

She is more than happy to see him go. It was difficult to have someone point out what she had feared all this time. If it was so painfully obvious to Niko that she had been used for the Captain's pleasure, how could she have missed it herself? How could she have been so naïve to give herself to a man that had promised absolutely nothing to her? Her skin begins to crawl at the thought of her purity being soiled.

The only thing a woman has to offer to her husband on her wedding night is herself. Now she has nothing to offer to no one. No one would have her now even if she did have something to offer. Another tear escapes from her lower eyelid. She quickly catches it with a finger and wipes it from her cheek.

"How could I be so stupid? I should have been able to see through his charm! I am so utterly foolish."

Unable to finish her chores, she turns her back on her duties and heads out into the raging storm. Her hair is immediately blown in every direction, blinding her before it becomes soaked and stuck to her face. The wind grabs at her tiny frame and pushes her around like a feather on water. As the cold rain begins to soak down to her skin through her clothes, she looks over to the starboard side to see a large wave come crashing over the deck. The ship rocks violently and she is sent flying into a nearby wall. Her cry of pain and shock is drowned out by the roaring ocean threatening to swallow her whole. The foaming sea water gathers around her ankles before being sucked out the scuppers. She turns and presses her back onto the wall to catch her breath. She shrieks when a hand grabs her wrist and pulls her out in the mayhem again.

"Miss Lil? What in God's green earth are ye doing out here? Are ye looking to be washed away?"

Blinking through the stinging rain, she makes out the massive silhouette of the bosun. His hand has a crushing grip on her arm that somehow comforts her.

"Ye best be getting inside, miss." His eyes leave her face. She watches as his pupils shrink and then looks out to where he stares. A massive wave creeps out of the shadows and is illuminated by a violent flash of lightning. The deafening crack of thunder directly above smothers his call. "Rogue wave!"

Liliana feels her helpless body being swept underneath the bulk of Jimmylegs' body before the impact of the wave jolts the ship violently over on to her side. The force of the water hits them both and her body is ripped from his. The protective grip that once kept her safe is torn from her arm as the water sweeps her away.

Unable to grasp, unable to plant her feet or to even cry out for help, she is carried swiftly with the traveling torrent. Her helpless body is scraped and dragged over the deck. She can feel her skin being torn and bruised. A hard blast to her stomach causes her to exhale what little air she had in her lungs. The weightlessness is suddenly replaced by the strong pull of gravity as she is swept over the side of the ship. As she plummets to the awaiting abyss and her final death, she screams to the only person who comes to mind.

His name is inaudible in the rushing water. It flows into her mouth and chokes her, filling her lungs with the crushing fluid. Miraculously, she finds her body being jerked back from the black waters. She opens her eyes to see the tentacled finger of the Captain tightly wrapped around her wrist.

"Davy!" She screams in pure terror, staring up into his face and seeing the same horror looking back at her. In the darkness his blue eyes glow like fire.

"I won't let ye go! Don't look down; keep your eyes on me!" He yells through gritted teeth as he desperately clings to her. Panic begins to set in as he feels her soaked skin slide easily through the suction cups on his cephalopod finger. Hanging half of his body out over the side, he is at risk of going overboard himself. But he can come back, however he would return alone. If she touches the water, she is gone, lost to the locker forever. The waves beneath her almost seem to reach up longingly for her body, craving another soul to take.

"Haul 'er in!" The bosun's voice travels over the side as the ship begins to right itself again. Hands reach over and grasp at Davy's arm and begin to pull them both in.

She screams with relief at the feeling of multiple hands grasping her shirt and flinging her into the waiting arms of the Captain. He envelops her tightly as he collapses on the deck, causing her to cough up water as her lungs are squeezed under the immense pressure.

"Lily! I thought I lost ye!" Davy moans breathlessly as he presses his cheek to her cold forehead. He kisses her head passionately and finds the sharp tang of blood on his lips. Under his hand, he can feel her tiny body beginning to shake violently. "I won't let ye go…"

Around him, his crew stands in complete shock and amazement. Whispers begin to float through the air, confirming the truth. The Captain does have her as his harlot. They stand there, unable to believe the scene they are witnessing with their own eyes. Some had seen their captain's face become wrought with fright when he realized she was in harm's way. Others watched as he flung himself over the stairway and through the rushing water to catch her just in time. The evidence sat plainly before them, but they still could not believe.

The rain continues to beat down upon them when he feels her head sink. "Lil, stay with me." He urges her desperately. He turns her limp body around to carry her inside. Her eyes, once so full of life now stare almost lifeless under heavy lids.

"Davy…" She whispers in a voiceless tone. "I love you…"

"Don't ye leave me now, Lil! Lily!" He gasps in horror as her head falls back onto his arm. Davy looks up to see his entire crew standing around him, still staring with curiosity. "Damn ye all to hell! What are ye staring at? Get back to work! Someone boil some water, dammit!" Carefully rising to his feet, he examines the rest of her body, noting where she is now profusely bleeding. Along with the wound to her head, a deep gash carves its way along the length of her left forearm while a tear in her shirt reveals a puncture wound to her abdomen.

Ignoring the blasting wind and pelting rain, he swiftly carries her towards the safety and protection of his cabin.


	18. Chapter 18

Breathless, he carried her limp body into his cabin, the same room she had been thrown out of when he had evoked his trepidation of the opposite sex. Once again, he gently positioned her on the mattress he first placed her upon when he found her, the same mattress he shared with her the night they gave in to their desires.

He stood over her for awhile, allowing his anxiety to carelessly build as she shivered violently under the thick wool blanket. As her blood began to seep through the fibers, he snapped back from the cold dark place he allowed himself to go. He found himself dreading the life he had once lived, the life this girl had so boldly interrupted.

Blindly, he began preparing the charcoal poultice to be used on her open wounds to prevent infections. An infection would not take her from him, she is already undead. His concern is that her leaving the deck of this ship would be enough for her to be claimed by the other world. She had not handed her soul to him; it was vulnerable now in her weakened state. If God wanted to claim her, he could take her now. And there was nothing he could do about it.

To keep his stirring mind from this horrid thought, he focuses on the possibility of infections and that she will feel the pain of her skin being destroyed by the illness while in her deep sleep. The poultice would be more for his comfort.

In his willingness to keep her strong, to keep her here with him, he cut open her shirt with the gulley that is always hidden beneath his overcoat. Using the last of her remaining soap, he washed her wounds clean and allowed them to weep the blood out from the injured surface. He kneeled before her with his head resting in his hand, his eyes bypassing the exposed breasts he once caressed to stare helplessly at the massive wound to her abdomen that now resembled tenderized meat on a cutting block.

A quiet knock upon the door only disturbed him slightly. Before answering, he reached for the blanket to cover her half nude body from the world.

"What…?" was the only response he could muster.

"Beg pardon, sir." Koleniko walked through the door nervously. His spines continuously rose and fell with his apprehension at this dangerous moment. Behind him, Bootstrap urged him to move forward into the room. "How is she, sir?"

From the corner of his eye, the Captain glanced lifelessly over to his crew. His head fell lower as he closed his eyes. "Why do ye care? Ye've had your meal."

"Nigh, sir," Niko reached for his head as if to remove an imaginary hat in respect but nervously allowed it to fall back to his side. "If I may be so bold as to say, she has become a dear friend to me and to Bootstrap here. We're concerned…"

Davy's heavy eyelids opened only slightly, as if it were too much of an effort to lift them all the way. "Ye all know now. Ye all think she is my whore."

"No, sir. We'd never think anything of that manner towards the mistress." Bootstrap finally added his solemn voice to the conversation. "The others however…"

"Well she's not." The Captain's voice sparked with rage but quickly dissipated. "She has been nothing but a loyal companion, a dear friend. One who never judged me or asked me to change. And when she needed me most, I abandoned her."

"Ye saved her, sir." Bootstrap muttered as he took a silent step forward.

"No. I let her down. And now I am to lose the only source of joy I've had in all these long centuries of misery and agony. All because I was too stubborn to see…"

"Is there anything that can be done?" Niko asked, still standing in the doorway.

"I'll need leeches. Tell the first mate to find an island, any island with standing fresh water, and collect as many as possible." He paused, wondering if they would help at all. Perhaps this was his ancient enemy's way of dealing that final blow. Perhaps God will punish him even further now for becoming involved with a heathen Goddess. A sharp pain in the empty cavity within his chest reminded him that he probably deserved this despair. "Dammit," he moaned while clutching the tender area with his hand. "If ye come across a ship, any ship, ye are to board it with extreme force and take any medical supplies they have. Hell, steal a surgeon if ye can. Who do we have here on board that can stitch these wounds?"

"Sir, Quittance is the one who normally handles those procedures; he was a surgeon on a Man-o' war. He has performed many a stitching and quite a few amputations…"

"Out of the question, coxswain, she is not to lose a limb. Not a finger or a hair, do ye hear me?" Davy spun around in his place and glared at the men until they backed out of the room. Turning back to her, he felt a hard knot form in his stomach to see her color draining away from her freckled cheeks. Reaching out to her, caressing her cooling skin beneath his palm, he whispered, "I'll make this right. I promise."

* * *

><p>He paced around as the deckhand Quittance examined her wounds. The Captain's heavy footsteps were an annoying distraction to the already nervous man who had been reluctantly dragged in to help the girl he viewed as the Captain's whore. He had stitched the wound on her arm, but Davy was not going to make it any easier when he denied the unwilling man access to the wound lying just below her left breast.<p>

"This is no peepshow, ye pervert!"

"Sir, the only way I can treat her wounds is if I am granted access to them." Quittance, remaining calm and poised, kept his fear well hidden beneath his graveled voice. The sea anemone that had replaced his lips revealed his secret by swaying frantically as if caught in a stormy sea.

"This is a woman! Not some soldier wounded in battle! I will not have her body exposed to prying eyes!"

"I am a surgeon, sir."

"And ye have treated men! And for centuries at that! Exposed feminine flesh would be perfect for a giddy little thrill right about now, wouldn't it?"

Quittance blinked numbly as the Captain roared into his face. The only thought that could come to mind was to fight back the urge of responding with 'like the thrill ye get when lying with yer little whore?' Composing himself, he came up with a better reply for his enraged captain. "Perhaps ye can cover her enough so I can examine her without jeopardizing her modesty?"

Davy noticed the sarcasm in the latter part of his statement and scraped his shoulder against the man as he charged through, pushing him out of the way. "Maybe I will!" Looking over to see if the crewman still had his back to him, Davy ran his fingers through her sweat soaked hair before taking the remains of her shirt and covering her breasts. For a moment, it looked as if some pain was removed from her face simply by his touch.

"That's not to be moved either!" Davy growled as he stormed away and planted his bottom on to a chair nearby. "I'm watching ye! And she is no whore!"

Quittance turned around to hide his rolling eyes from his superior who now sat with an angry pouting lip and folded arms.

* * *

><p>Days passed quickly, and the only company Davy took in was the creaking walls of his traveling ship. The leeches were found and made plump with her blood. The poultice was applied and reapplied but the infection continued to sink further into her pale flesh. A rim of hot pink surrounded her poorly healing wounds.<p>

Sitting on the floor beside her, he ignored his cramping muscles and hunger pains. With the ship under the command of his first mate, the only time he left the room was to relieve himself. Afterwards, he would quickly slam the door shut and lock it behind him. Unsure if it was brought on by boredom or sympathy, he thought it wise to start speaking to her. He would take her hand in his, gently stroking the cold surface with his thumb and would talk quietly to her for hours on end. Deep inside, he hoped his voice would bring her around, or if not, give her a sense that someone was there. Perhaps his being here now would make up for the lack of it before her accident. He could only hope.

"'Tis a beautiful day out there today, Lily, not unlike the day I found ye. The sun is hot, but there is a cool northern breeze that brings relief to the flesh. We're off the coast of the Barbados right now, 'tis a beautiful island, I'm sure ye'd love it. The sand is white, the water a lovely turquoise and the palm trees a deep emerald green. Can ye see it?" He pats her hand, feeling slightly silly knowing she most likely cannot.

"I am sure ye are wondering why I am doting on ye so. I can hear ye now, nagging at me for not being there when ye needed me most. Wait…nagging isn't the right word, is it?" He reaches up and scratches his forehead over the confusion. "See, I've had time to think over these last few days, and, well, ye may never hear me say this when ye are awake, so prepare yourself…but I was wrong." He pauses to examine her face. When he gets no reaction, he finds himself saddened. He would love to have her eyes pop open and for her to playfully yell, 'I told you so!'

"Lily, ye have done nothing but support me. Not once did ye reject me for my appearance or turn me away for my past dealings. Ye opened your heart to me and didn't so much as flinch when I broke it. I could only dream of being as strong as ye are. I know now it is only because ye were as lonely as I am. And try as I might, I just cannot push ye away from me like I have done with so many others."

He watches as a slight grimace forms on her face and then fades away. He reaches for the damp cloth next to him and pats her forehead. "The fact is, I don't know what it is about ye that brings me to care. I have not cared for a single soul since Calypso, I did everything I could to push everyone away. And I succeeded at that until ye came along. It may sound outlandish, but I think ye were sent to me. Sometimes, however, it doesn't always seem like a gift. Ye make me remember things I thought I had forgotten. I wanted to forget them, Lil. I have no heart, I removed it on purpose, and having ye here forces me to remember love and devotion."

"Ye told me on deck that ye love me. Is this true? Or was it something said out of complete delirium? Because if ye do love me, I'm not sure if I can return the feeling. Not because ye are unworthy of loving, far from it sweetheart, but because I fear my actions so many years ago have rendered it impossible." Davy pauses to consider his next statement carefully. "And I regret it now. I am missing out on so much with ye, all because of something someone did to me."

"Why have ye come to me? Were ye sent to help or harm me? Sometimes I think it is one and then I think it is the other. I must admit, it is pleasing to have someone who believes in me. I know everyone beyond that door considers me a monster, in flesh and being. So in that regard, ye help me. I crave how ye make me laugh, and ye laugh right along with me even if it is in your own expense. Ye know, I cannot remember the last time I had laughed before I met ye. Is that not frightening? And now I am faced with never being able to laugh again."

He lowers his upper half onto the mattress, resting his heavily bearded head on his crustacean arm. "I do not know if I can handle it again. I only had one heart to remove. What am I to remove if I lose ye? I'm sure ye would suggest my nether regions at this point, but let's be serious. I would be forced to deal with the pain of losing ye then. And that's why I think ye were sent to harm me. Especially now. Now that I've grown accustomed to your laugh, your smile, your everything."

He repositions himself and sends her a flirtatious smirk. "See, I was quite the romantic before all this. Yes, yes, sounds impossible, I know. I turned down many opportunities for marriage just to stay out at sea, for she was my first love after all. But I always felt there would come a time when I would meet that one amazing woman and she'd be the one to convince me to settle down, have a family. I thought I met her three centuries ago and it's clear now that I did not." He decides to abruptly change the topic with the thought of his hopes and dreams disappearing like the outgoing tide. "So ye see, despite my many faults now, I did have redeeming qualities back then. And for some reason, they come back to the surface when I am with ye. I don't know how ye do it, and sometimes I wish I could make it stop. But then there are times, like the time we…well, had relations…I felt alive again, as if my heart were back and beating strongly within my chest again!"

"In fact, I have felt different since the first time I saw ye. I just remember how I was immediately drawn to your face. The minute I saw those sweet lips, I knew I had to lay my own upon them. I know ye hate your freckles, but I find those flecks of cinnamon skin quite endearing. And despite the sea salt, I could still smell the rosewater upon your skin. I haven't smelled that scent in so long and it remains with me since that night. Now, I would never admit it to you while in a conscious state, but ye, my dear, stirred within me a primal longing I had thought I lost. Hmm, perhaps I should, perhaps I should have. I'd hate for it to be too late to tell ye that I crave and desire ye more than any woman I've ever been with. And I no longer assume that it is merely because I have been celibate for so very, very long. I would like to admit to ye now that ye are indeed a desirable woman, despite what ye may think of yourself, my dear. It is not just your body that I crave, but your lively spirit, your quick wit, and your willingness to love me. I need ye to love me, despite my readiness to push ye away."

"So I promise ye, here and now, upon my own immortal soul, that I will no longer push ye away. I cannot guarantee that it will come easy. I will continue to struggle and be afraid, that is for certain. But I believe ye will help me through it all. Won't ye?" He pauses and receives no answer other than her labored breathing. "I am very much afraid. I fear what might happen next. But if I don't grow some bollocks and swallow my fear, I'm going to miss out on this opportunity, am I right? And you're not going to sit around and wait for me. No, ye are much stronger than that. Ye'd never wait ten years for me. Or would ye? Because I'd be there. I'd be there a year early just to be sure! Here I am again, waiting for another woman. Will ye do the same to me as the one before? Only this time, not on purpose? I will continue to wait, because ye waited for me. And now that I reflect upon it, I cannot see ye as anything other than a gift. Ye are my redemption."

* * *

><p>Another three days pass with the Captain devoting the majority of his time cleaning her wounds and talking to her as if she might wake and join in on the drawn out one-sided conversation. He fought a vicious battle to keep a fever from overpowering her. He continually placed fresh poultice and the now corpulent leeches on her wounds to suck fresh blood to the area to hasten the healing. He did everything he thought he could do, everything he thought she would do for him. With his inability to right the poor decisions of the past, he felt this was the only way to make it up to her. She would never abandon him when he needed her, and he needed to prove this change to her somehow.<p>

Completely exhausted, his head rested near her shoulder, only for a few moments, he told himself. Hours later, when the feather light touch of fingertips trails along his cheek, he thinks he is dreaming. Then his name is called by her sweet voice and then moments later a slight tug to one of his tentacles forces his eyes open. He looks over at her, his exhausted eyes are shielded by heavy eyelids.

"Lily?" Davy whispers in disbelief.

"Davy." A weak smile spreads across her face. She frowns suddenly when the pain in her body becomes her reality. "What happened?"

"Something horrible. I almost lost ye." He leans in and presses his face to her temple. With all his power, he resists the urge to wrap his arms around her body. Her still healing side would not welcome the pressure. "I thought I lost ye. I probably deserved to…"

"Don't speak like that."

"Do ye remember anything? Do ye remember what ye said to me before ye passed out?"

Her eyes scan the ceiling above for a hidden answer. "I remember a wave, I remember you." As Liliana turns her head, a single tear escapes her eye and rolls down onto the pillow. "You rescued me."

"Yes. And do ye recall what ye said to me afterward?" He smiles when she shakes her head. "Ye told me that ye loved me."

"I did?" Liliana's weakened heart begins to race. She calms slightly when his hand reaches over to caress her cheek.

"Did ye mean it? Tell me the truth now."

She responds with the slightest of nods. Her mind overflows with the multitude of reactions she might have to witness. He had rejected her affection before the accident; she deems it impossible that much has changed since then. "I'm sorry. I know that's not what you want."

"Do not apologize for how ye feel. I realize now that I was a fool to turn ye away. I gather ye did not hear a word of what I've said to ye for the past week, but I don't mind repeating myself in this case. I am the one who should apologize. I allowed my fear and anger to get the better of me. I want ye to know that I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt ye. While I am unable to feel love, I most certainly do care for ye. I only want the best for ye, and from this day on, I will work hard to ensure ye only receive the best."

Liliana's frail laugh sounds like music from the heavens; he hasn't heard it in a very long time. She gazes deeply into his eyes and places a tender kiss on his lips. "What has become of you? All of a sudden, this change of heart despite not having one?"

"Perhaps when ye are stronger, I will let ye know. But for now, let's just start where we left off."

Liliana blushes at the thought. She had longed to lie in his arms the morning after they made love. All she wanted was to feel his protective grasp around her body. "I've waited a long time for this moment."

"Aye? Then wait no more." Gently he pulls her body into his and they melt into each other's embrace, finally coming together as one.


	19. Chapter 19

Dim rays of light penetrate the ocean-soiled windows of his cabin, revealing the start of a new day. The stern of the _Dutchman_ faces the rising sun this morning, allowing its growing light to reach across the lengthy room to where the two lovers lie tangled with one another.

Half asleep, Liliana smiles to find herself in the protective embrace of her provider.

Unwilling to face the reality of a new day, she buries her head deep into his bare chest to block out the growing light. Soon he will awaken and go back to his usual routine; forsaking their budding relationship for his responsibilities and fears of scrutiny from his questioning crew. Once outside that door, they put aside the tender words and fond emotions for the hardships of their daily duties.

Between preparing and cooking meals, and between cleaning up after the crew, her time is spent wishing away the hours until night fall, when they can finally allow themselves to experience the passion and tenderness they both crave for each other. The nights since she professed her love to him have been spent in the strength of his arms. At first she anticipated the same delayed response of trepidation from him that she received last time. She expected an empty bed and a cold back turned towards her when she opened her eyes. But for every morning she woke up with her head still resting on his gently rising and falling chest, she lost that expectation and relished in the attention he was giving her.

During his day, he keeps a watchful eye on her despite her growing safety on deck. It being more of a comfort for himself to know she is within reach. Not to protect her but to ravish her if need be. Only when he was sure there were no eyes upon them could he pull her into a dark corner and taste the flesh of her neck and face. Until the night before, he had been unable to take her fully because of her recent injuries. Last night, she came to him eager to please.

For the first time in centuries, Davy has found something to care about. His only worry before Liliana was the crew and that became dreadfully redundant a century or two ago. He insisted that she take it slow with her daily tasks. And suddenly he realized the pleasure of seeing her happy. She smiled to herself when he told her of his concern and to experience his new formed compassion. _This is new_, a challenge to figure out the opposite sex. _What will make her happy? What will make her laugh? What can I do to annoy the hell out of her so we can argue? _It became a pleasurable and distracting game for him and he had become addicted to it. He found incredible delight in knowing that he could push his limits farther in teasing her now. To his amazement, she allowed it and even encouraged it.

The wound on her side has been healing over the passing weeks but still causes a deep throbbing within her chest cavity when she moves suddenly or expands her lungs too deeply. Davy suspects a fractured rib is responsible, stating that only time can heal that sort of injury. His knowledge of wound treatment and infection prevention could only bring her so far.

With this willingness to delight her came concern for her well being. She would smile as he scolded her for lifting heavy pots and then frown when she referred to him as a "mother hen". She often found herself giggling over something naughty spoken in a low whisper in her ear. He'd strut away from her, beaming with a smug grin as she reminded him that he was behaving like a pubescent school boy.

_So this is the real Davy Jones_. She murmured to herself one day after he had finished leaving passion bruises on her collarbone. _So glad to finally meet you! What foolish woman would ever give up a man like him?_

Now fully awake, she softly runs her thumb along the broad expanse of his chest that lies beneath her hand. She ignores the puckered scar and instead focuses on the smooth flesh untouched by his curse. The smell of his skin is intoxicating as she breathes him in. He stirs slightly beneath her touch, "please don't wake," she whispers softly.

"Too late, I've been awake for some time, only delaying…"

"What if we were to just stay here for the day? What could possibly go wrong?" Her grip tightens around his body instinctively, knowing he is about to rise and leave her.

Closing his eyes, he allows himself the pleasured thought of lying with her naked body for the duration of the day before speaking in a monotone, matter-of-fact voice, "oh, well we wouldn't sail anywhere and therefore would not have any ships to harvest. This means we would run out of supplies which would make you very bad-tempered. This means the crew would have nothing to eat and then they would become very bad-tempered. This in turn would make ME incredibly bad-tempered, and no one wants that. And if we didn't leave this room, the crew would not do their work, the ship would fall into disarray, and they would mutiny the hell out of this place. That, my dear, is what would happen."

Liliana lifts her head to stare in disbelief at him through her passion tossed hair that now hangs loosely upon her face. "You've had entirely too much time to think about that scenario."

"A couple of long, lonely centuries." He reaches over and sweeps the hair from her face. "Well, the part where ye come in is relatively new."

She pulls away and buries her face into the pillow. "I don't want to get up," she groans and he words are muffled.

"Come now, it's only sixteen more hours until we can be together!" He playfully slaps her bare buttocks with his hand, causing her to jump with the shock.

"That is most foul, you behave yourself."

"When have I ever?" He lifts his burdened body from the mattress and walks over to the chair where he had placed his clothes the night before.

"Never." She mumbles. She glances over at his exposed body as he travels. The malformations don't even seem to register now, her eyes pass by them immediately as they are of no importance to her. Despite the strength of his muscles, he seems to be burdened by his own weight this morning.

"Exactly, so don't be expecting it now." He sends her a playful wink as he slides his shirt over his shoulders. Unable to handle the complexity of multiple buttons, Davy had always remained dressed after the curse had taken its full course, not once removing an article of clothing completely until Liliana came into his life. The sensation of the ancient clothing upon his skin after a night of liberating nudity makes him feel tied down; he struggles to bear their weight. With every article now on, he sends her a sheepish grin, "I'll be needing your assistance as usual."

She yawns as she stands up from their sanctuary. "I wish you would learn to dress yourself." Grabbing her nightshift, she covers herself and walks over to him. He is allowed to see her in bed, but once her feet hit the floor she feels the urge of propriety. "You use those tentacles for handling other things; they must be able to handle buttons."

"It's complicated! Ye have to stick the button through! And ye are the one that insists I get undressed. I could make it easier on the both of us if I just stayed in my clothes."

"Oh yes," she groans while fidgeting with a button that does not want to go in place. "That's all I need, all those bits of coral and barnacles scraping up against me as we make love."

He examines her definition of the actions spent last night. "Is that what ye call it?"

"Yes. What else would you like me to refer to it as?" She pulls down on the fabric of his shirt and vest to straighten them. "All dressed, my helpless child."

He ignores her sarcasm but notes the heavier French escaping in her accent. "Well, there are lots of words. Sex, for one. Intercourse, if you want to be technical. And there's always fucking." He shoots her a wicked grin.

"That's about enough." She waves a dismissive hand in his laughing face and walks away. "What is wrong with me using the term 'making love'? Seems less of a debauchery to me."

He chooses his words carefully. "Well, we've been through this. Ye know I cannot love ye. It's not possible."

"Yes, but I love you. And therefore it is 'making love' for me. I'm not going to stop loving you because you cannot love me back." She smiles sweetly at him and feels a slight flutter deep under her breast. Her hand covers her chest and she swallows hard.

Davy looks up from a button that he had decided he would try for himself. "Lily? Something the matter?"

"I'm not sure; it feels like my heart wants to leap out of my chest." He voice shakes with the fluttering.

"Don't tell me ye are that deeply in love with me! Control yourself, woman!"

"No, Davy, I am not jesting." Again her heart jumps with erratic racing. Her knees become weak and she stumbles slightly. "My chest…"

He paces over to her side and directs her to the mattress. He kneels before her and watches as the color drains from her face. The plump pinkness of her lips becomes a drawn out shade of grey. "Dammit, I knew it was too soon."

Again she swallows deeply in a desperate attempt to control the pounding sensation that now swells up into her throat. Her breathing becomes labored, her lungs heavy and weakened by her heart's irregular pulsing. And as suddenly as the palpitations came upon her they quickly cease, leaving her with an eerie calm.

"What was that?" She rasps breathlessly. "It was like my heart was convulsing, but it wasn't painful. And now I feel nothing at all."

A frightening thought forces Davy to reach for her hand and press two fingers tightly across the underside of her wrist. His fears are confirmed. "It's happening." He continues to search for her pulse under his fingers but fails to find it. He had felt her pulse race strong last night under his touch, a cold shiver travels through his body to find it lacking now.

"What? What's happening? Davy you are scaring me." She examines the blank, worried stare on his face.

"I had thought that because I brought ye back that ye would be safe. But because ye left the ship…"

"What are you talking about?"

"The night of your accident. Ye went overboard. Ye left the ship. Ye didn't touch the water, but ye left. If ye leave this ship without my allowing it, ye die."

"That's preposterous, I'm already dead." She removes her hand from his grip and cups his cheek in her palm.

"No, ye are undead. Ye are in between the realm of the living and the dead, like a purgatory, so to speak. But ye left the ship…"

The reality sinks in harshly and she pulls her hand away from his face to wrap it around herself. "I'm dying?"

He responds with a slight nod while still staring off into the distance.

"What am I to do? Look at me!" She grabs his face and forces him to break free from his horrid thoughts. "I would have taken this before, but not now! Not now that I finally have you! Help me, what do I do? Surely there must be a way to stop this. I don't want to leave you now."

"I don't know…" He falls back out of her grasp. "I'll think of something."

"Davy, I'm afraid. I'm just to die? To leave you now when we've finally found a shred of happiness?"

Davy's cerulean eyes snap back over and meet hers, his gaze flowing with concern and fear. "Not if I can help it. I'll find a way."


	20. Chapter 20

The Caribbean air hangs heavy with moisture under the unforgiving sun. Not a breath of wind can be felt streaming across the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_. High noon and the ship remains stationary in the middle of nowhere. The occasional albatross wanders overhead, fortunate enough to catch rising air currents from the rapidly heating ocean surface. The Captain looks up under heavy eyelids and curses them for their freedom.

He stands behind a few members of his crew who are busy planning their next possible route of travel. Their low voices seem relaxing to his dulled senses and his eyelids drop into closure. _Just a few seconds…not too long_, he thinks to himself as he allows his exhausted body to bathe in the comfort of sleep.

Someone's voice raises above the others and his eyes are forced open with a snort. He shakes his head and notices that the tossing of his beard captures cooler air underneath its heavy length. Jones thinks back to when his body used to retain warmth and how agonizing it was to have so much heat laying upon his chest. With his blood cooled, his beard now acts as a barrier against the sun's vicious rays. That is, unless the girl crosses his path and he becomes hot and bothered.

He tries stifling a yawn but it wins out in the end. Thankfully no one notices. His eyelids rasp over his dried out eyes, _just close them for a second_, he considers and quickly finds relief.

"Sir?"

No response.

"Captain?"

A slight whisper of a snore.

His crew look amongst themselves at the sight of their superior standing with head hanging low and shoulders drooping in a midday nap.

"Is he really sleeping?" Palifico mumbles in disbelief.

"That lass of his must be doing a number on him! And good!" The bosun playfully slaps his hand down on the man's calcified back.

Koleniko chuckles, "I'll wake 'im!" He quietly steps toward Jones to check if he truly is asleep. "Out like a light, 'e is!" He looks back to his mates and laughs quietly. Leaning in towards the Captain, he gives the loudest impression of a squawking seagull he can make. "**AWWWWKKKKK**!"

Jones' head shoots up with another snort and his eyes quickly scan his surroundings for the source of the disturbing noise.

"Oy, sir! Ye missed it!" Niko slaps a hand onto his captain's shoulder, shaking him slightly to stir him further. "'Twas the biggest seagull ever! Almost nicked ye, he did! Thankfully I saw him before he could get at ye sir!"

Jones notes the sarcasm and shakes the man's hand off his body. He sends him a reprimanding glare and watches as he slinks toward the snickering faces of his crewmates. "Ye are lucky I don't thank ye with the backside of my hand." Jones mutters as he feels the weight of his eyelids once more.

Maccus, the only one not finding amusement in all of this, strides over to his captain's side. "Sir, what madness is this? I have served ye loyally for near of a century and not once have I seen ye take yer duties so lightly."

Davy fights to open his eyes. "Hmm? What?"

Maccus stands there in disbelief, allowing the only thought his mind can fathom to flow over him. _This is that wretched harlot's work. She's been riding the man all night and leaving him useless for us during the day. That's how she's getting her way! _ Maccus clears his throat and leans in. "Sir, 'tis not my place to say but I fear the girl is interfering with yer duties."

Before he has time to blink, the first mate finds his superior's crustacean claw gripped tightly around his throat. With very little effort, Jones drags his body towards him as if he weighed no more than a feather. Maccus is left breathless and in complete shock.

"Come again?" With his head still lowered, his fiery blue eyes that now pierce the wagered soul of his first mate.

"It's just…that…" Maccus finds his words cut off by the increasing pressure around his airway. Jones' fingers dig deeply into the sensitive tissues of his gills. "Not like ye to fall asleep, sir."

Jones rips his arm away, sending his first mate stumbling backwards. He straightens himself. "Not like ye to inquire in to my personal life, first mate. I assume it will not happen again?"

Maccus reaches up to soothe the skin of his now bruising neck. "Nigh, sir." He hisses.

Jones sends a silent warning to the rest who watched this reprimand. His eyes coldly pass over each of their faces. They each nod and take their leave of him, knowing he's had more than enough of their presence.

Standing alone, he presses his thumb and middle finger to the corners of his eyes and massages firmly. _I could only wish it was something carnal that kept me awake last night_, he reflects to himself. But instead, he found himself perusing countless amounts of books and maps in a desperate attempt to find a way to save the girl from her ultimate fate. He has been doing this every night for weeks now, silently while she sleeps and only rarely being found out. As more days pass, her heart more frequently takes on its erratic pace, leaving her breathless and reaching out to him for support.

Knowing he has let this go too far, he takes a deep sigh and leans against the side rail. Once again he counts off all the reasons why he never should have taken her aboard. But the sound of her laughter floating up from a lower deck catches him off guard and a smile creeps into formation_. For some reason unbeknownst to me, she makes me happy. I have got to find a way…_

"There you are!"

He looks over toward the stair well to see her smiling face rising from the depths. _Like the sun rising…only brighter._

"A little bird tells me you were falling asleep at the wheel!" Knowing there are no eyes upon them as the bell has rung for dinner; she walks directly over to him and places her hands underneath his coat and onto his firm sides. Her skin tingles to find warmth growing there from her touch.

"A _little_ bird? More like a gigantic, marauding seagull." He snorts and gazes down to her awaiting face. Her russet eyes smile up at him with wonder. "What?"

"I love you."

Davy swallows hard with her words.

"I know it still makes you uncomfortable to hear me say that, but I feel you must know the truth on a regular basis. Surely knowing you are loved will make your day much better."

"It does." He reaches up and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You're in a plucky mood."

"How could I not be? When I have everything I could ever want." She leans in closer to him, allowing her breasts to press up against his body. Her happiness with him always seems to outweigh the seriousness of her situation.

"I am going to make this right."

"I know you will. I believe you will figure this out. You know all the secrets of the sea, all its magic. I trust you will find it. That is if you still want to keep me." She sends him a naughty smile.

He wraps his arms around her and squeezes tightly. "Ye just keep behaving properly and we'll see."

"I make no promises!" She laughs and pulls herself from his arms. "In the meantime, Captain, your meal awaits you in your cabin."

"Very well. I request your presence during my meal so we can discuss what I have found so far."

She smiles brightly as she sends him a polite curtsy. Dining with the Captain, even when you are his romantic interest, is still quite an honor. "I would be delighted. But you must relax and you must sleep tonight or I fear the birds might get you." She laughs as she heads down the stairs.

* * *

><p>She fed him a meal of kipper, cheese and ship's biscuits with a large tankard of grog. A cool meal for an excruciatingly hot day. He had been exceptionally hungry and had downed the meal before she had time to sit next to him. After she had finished her meal, he discussed some of his recent findings.<p>

"See, I know of some trinket that can be used for immortality. I know it lies in this area," he points a finger to a tiny spot on an old water-stained map, "but I am yet to find out what the item is or its exact location."

"Goodness, I thought that dot you are pointing to was a crumb." Liliana leans in and squints. "This room is in desperate need of more lighting."

Davy shakes his head and laughs quietly to himself. "I like my dreary world, love."

She looks up from the speck on the map to examine his face. He had brightened while eating but now as he digests his meal, the exhaustion is back upon his face, casting deep shadows under his eyes.

"Tell me love, where does it hurt?" She grasps the broad thickness of his masculine shoulders beneath her small hands. "You are so very tense."

"Everywhere, I hurt everywhere."

She leans in to kiss him softly on the lips, recognizing the familiar salt left there from the early morning ocean breeze. She reaches up and caresses his cheek. "Let me take it away."

Davy manages a slight smile. "Like only ye can."

After placing a gentle kiss on his weathered forehead, she reaches up and removes the barnacle encrusted hat from his head. She carries it off to place it on the organ bench nearby, noting the weight of it in her hands as she travels.

"No wonder you ache, Captain, for this hat is quite heavy. It must be such a burden." She places the hat on the smooth surface and turns to catch the remnants of a deep and sorrow-filled sigh coming from her lover. Her eyes travel the length of his massive beard which now has his head and shoulders slumping over from its weight. His crustacean arm hangs lifelessly at his side, too heavy to carry upright any longer. He catches her empathetic examination and sends her a weak smile.

"Do not fret over me."

"I will fret over you if it feels appropriate to do so." Liliana walks over to support him as he stands. She begins to remove his overcoat next.

She finds herself prying away the kinked tentacles that hold the coat in place over his burdensome arm. Their many years of grasping the garment have left them tense and permanently curled. Through his fatigue, she can see that he is having difficulty standing so she allows him to lean on her slightly as she removes the coat from his other arm. While feeling the weight of this new article in her hands, she examines the worn down cloth now covered in all manners of sea life. This coat no longer offers protection from the wind and rain. It now only serves as a status symbol, identifying him as captain. A lump forms in her throat to know this and to feel the weight he is carrying around on his body every day. It is no wonder to her why he is in pain. Her small arms are barely able to carry the coat high enough to keep it from dragging along the floor as she walks. It may be old and tattered, but she still feels the need to treat the garment with respect, as if it were brand new. Liliana places it over the back of a nearby chair with as much love and kindness she would show a small child in her care. Again, she catches the saddened look upon his face.

"I am far too old for ye. This wretched body doesn't have the capacity to take responsibility of ye like I should. How am I to care for ye when I can barely take care of myself at this point? It's not fair to ye."

She makes her way over to him in a quickened pace. "You hush. No more talk like that. I don't need you to be doing cartwheels all over the place for my satisfaction. What I need now is for you to go lie down on that bed and rest. The crew will not miss you for a bell." She gently places her hands on his back to lead him over to the mattress.

He gives her resistance. "But it is the afternoon watch. The relieving crew must be posted to their stations. I still have to figure out what the hell we are going to do about ye, I still have to write my entry into the log book and…"

She walks out from behind to face him. "First of all, everyone knows where their station is because they've been doing the same job now for centuries. The first mate can handle that. Second, we will figure out what will be done with me and it will go a lot faster if you are freshened and have a clear mind. And last, my love, your log book cannot possibly change that much in a half hour. All you need to write is that we're becalmed, things are quiet except for the occasional bird impression and that we're waiting to set sail. You have no one to report to so it's not like the log is essential at this time. There, now you have no more reasons to stay up." Liliana stubbornly folds her arms in front of her.

He stares at her in disbelief before gently patting her cheek with his hand. "Ye are becoming quite the little sailor. And caretaker."

She helps him turn and lower into the bed. "Well, you did enlist me." She smiles and pulls the wool blanket up over him. "And I guarantee life will be the same after you wake. Nothing will change."

Fighting back his exhaustion for the final time, he looks up at her and smiles. "Everything has changed since you've come along. For the better."


	21. Chapter 21

Now fully replenished by an uninterrupted night of sleep, Jones greets the dawning light by filling his ancient lungs with the fresh ocean air. Feeling invigorated, he steps out on deck to reinstate his dominance. His stride is powerful despite his right limb being reduced to a crustacean peg; each step informs his waking crew that he has claimed this deck as his own once more.

"The ship will not sail herself!" He bellows to a few members who lag behind, noting the involuntary cheery tone that escaped from his throat.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he walks towards the portside to witness the massive arms of the Kraken enveloping the remainders of a newly built French barque. He had spotted this ship in the fading evening light from his spyglass a sennight ago, making sure to remember the name painted on her stern. _Le Chuchotement_, he spoke aloud, _The Whisper_. Aptly named, she floated through the waves with great ease, as if taunting the Captain to come find her. He admired her fresh coat of blue and white paint, noted her port of call was Saint Malo and was brought back to the days when he had set foot on that land. The memory was comforting and disturbing all at once. He had met the woman who sealed his fate just days after deciding to set sail early from port. A decision he has come to regret over the centuries past.

Now he watches as the barque's fleet little stern is snapped in half by the leviathan's crushing weight. He scoffs to himself at how easily it divides in two. _These_ _new ships these days, nothing but splinters and twine_. But he couldn't help but appreciate the speed at which she had sailed away a week ago. Her crew must have spotted the _Dutchman_ upon the horizon, the simple act now having brought them to this inevitable fate. No one witnesses the _Dutchman _and sails away from her. Like a black widow, she is a cruel mistress, not one to taunt when it comes to fate.

The Captain decided he wanted her. Not the ship herself, but her cargo. Well, perhaps he will strip her of her rigging and sails as his are in need of replacement and repair soon. Being a small vessel she would have a diminutive crew so he could justify the loss of life easily to himself. He chased her to the reefs where a storm lay brewing to the east. He waited patiently for her hull to grind against the jagged corals underneath the deceptive waves. Jones preferred this spot for running ships ashore; the water always looked deeper than it actually was. Thanks to the lumbering shadows cast off by nearby towering rocks, it was a mirage that always worked in Jones' favor if he timed it right.

Pulling out his spyglass, he examines the choppy water for souls. He had counted thirty prior to her sinking. None are to be found now; they must have made it to the nearby shore before the Kraken decided it would feast on the bowels of the ship. _Lucky_, he smirks, _for now_. He has no need for souls, his crew being fully stocked. He will let them go to hunt them another day. A predator must always have patience. But a scavenger will always take advantage of any and all situations.

A low thud echoes from under the water. The ship having been torn apart and dumped into the shallows, the Kraken slides into the dark waters and disappears. Now he will make his move.

"Thank ye, girl." Jones mutters quietly to himself, knowing she will hear.

"Who are you thanking?"

Jones spins around quickly, not realizing the other female in his life was near. "Ye know ye are not allowed on deck when the kraken is feasting." He sends her a disciplinary look. Around them, the crew race around frantically as they prepare for the harvest. And then suddenly, silence. Jones surveys the deck before reaching out to place his hand on Lil's shoulder. "This is not a scene for the fairer sex."

She looks up at him and pouts. He cannot help but smile at the look of a scolded child.

She shrugs her shoulder, causing his hand to slide off. "Are you calling me a lady? I am a sailor now."

"No. Not at all. Perhaps I should have said 'child'." He scruffs her head with his hand and waits for the explosion.

Her brow furrows into an angry frown. But instead she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Just the response I was expecting." Unable to stifle his laughter, he pulls her in to his body. Suddenly he is reminded by how that part of her anatomy she had just so rudely displayed had caressed the inside of his mouth this morning before he arose from bed. How she gently traced the tip of her nose across his chest, her hot breath leaving a trail of lust on his skin. She kissed the scar on his chest as was customary for her now. Every morning, she blessed it with her lips, hoping to ease the pain.

She looks up to gaze into his playful eyes, but notices they look fuzzy and wet. "Davy, have you been…crying?"

"Me? Love, that is impossible. Nigh, 'tis the wind." He taps his temple with a finger. "No eyelashes, no protection from the wind. I cannot be helped."

She leans back in and buries her head in his beard. "Oh. I was hoping you were caught up in the moment."

"Bah, ye don't affect me that much!"

Pressing her hands hard on his stomach, she launches herself away from his protective body and walks away. She keeps her head down to hide the smile brimming on her face. Her steps are faltered by a sudden shuddering of the ship followed by a low ethereal groan. She gasps and races back to his side, enveloping his body in her arms.

"Make it go away!" She screams as she almost knocks him off balance.

"What? It will not harm ye!"

She buries her face into his body, her cheeks scratched by the barnacles on his clothing. "Make it go away! It wants me! It knows I don't belong here, she's after me!"

"Lily, ye've never been afraid of her before." He pauses. "Why would she scare ye now?"

"She was waiting for me! The night I fell overboard! She was there! I know it."

Davy lowers himself to his knee and cups her chin in his hand. "No Lil, she was not. She was not summoned that night. Besides, I had ye, I wasn't going to let ye fall."

"She was there! I saw her underneath me! Every time I looked, she was there, looking straight up at me! I couldn't protect myself…she wanted me! I had nothing to protect me but the wood!"

Davy's eyes squint in an attempt to understand her chaotic rambling. A tear swiftly runs down her cheek and he reaches to dry its path from her face. "Lil, ye had me. I was there." Again he stops to examine her words. _What did she mean by wood? What wood?_ And suddenly, as if being bowled over by a huge wave, it occurs to him. "Lily that was the night ye lost your memory. The night your ship sank and I rescued ye. Ye remember!" He shakes her as if it will make her understand.

She takes a shaky breath in. "She wants me still…"

"She'll not have ye." He pulls her into his arms and holds her tightly.

"Does this mean my memory is coming back?" She sniffs and reaches up to wipe her face in her hand.

Jones releases his grip and pulls away. Suddenly he is forced with the possibility that this girl will recall her past and realize that she has a life somewhere else. She will remember loved ones who would undoubtedly want her back. Perhaps even a husband. She will want to be back with them. She will realize there is life beyond this ship and that she does not love him after all. She will leave him.

He falls back into a seated position and stares blankly past her questioning face. _If she remembers, she will leave me_. _Why would any self respecting girl stay with a monster like me? She only loves me because she does not know any better_. _When she remembers her past, she will forget me_. _I have to stop this_…

Her repeated calling of his name shakes him out of his disturbing thoughts. In his mind, he can see her walking away with recollection intact, a look of disgust and betrayal upon her face making her pretty features look morbid.

"What on earth is the matter? You look as if you've seen an apparition."

"Nothing. Nothing is the matter."

"Well, what do you think? Do you think my remembrance is returning?"

Again he fights away the image of her walking away. "No, I wouldn't be too hopeful. One memory doesn't necessarily mean it is all coming back."

"Oh," her face becomes sorrow-filled. "I do wish I could recall who I am."

_That's the last thing I want_. Davy gently pats her cheek with his hand. "Don't fret, ye have me."


	22. Chapter 22

Liliana shivers as she steps out of the galley to call upon the crew to break their fast. She crosses her arms in front of her, hoping the friction caused by rubbing both arms with her chilled hands will make the cold more bearable.

She looks up to the gray and foreboding sky, heavy with saturated clouds that threaten with savage weather ahead. For a fortnight now the conditions have increasingly diminished from the balmy Caribbean sunny warmth to this dismal, blackened coldness. Seems fitting, she thinks to herself, for it suits her mood as of late. As time passes, with no answers to her mortality, she finds herself bathed in melancholy.

While her wounds have healed from the night she almost lost her life to the sea, her body still aches deep inside. She knows this ship is absorbing the very life inside of her. Left with puckered scars - permanent reminders of her terror - she is somehow grateful for the colder weather so she can hide beneath longer sleeves. Her melancholy may be brought on due to this wretched weather, but the idea of not knowing how long she has left on this Earth is what troubles her most. An unadulterated soul cannot survive on board the _Dutchman_ for long.

Her nights now are filled with scarring nightmares. Every time she closes her eyes for respite, the Kraken lies in wait. She struggles for air as its slimy grip tightens around her body. She screams for the only man who can save her, as she is helplessly drawn to the depths below. But he does not come to her aid. She only hears his voice whisper, "I do not love ye". And once again, like many nights before, she is thrown from her nightmare, dripping in sweat and gasping for air.

How can it be so? How can she possibly fall in love with a cursed sea creature, only to lose him once it is realized? And to make things worse, the love is not and never will be reciprocated. She continues to sharply remind herself to not fall for him any further as he will never love her back. But the joy it brings her to simply adore him…what is the harm in that? At least it creates some shred of happiness in her increasingly dismal life.

A barnacle covered shoulder scrapes against her and she is forced out of her silent misery. There's no point in trying to figure out if she was pushed deliberately or by accident. It doesn't matter now. They won't have to deal with her much longer.

The Captain had promised he will do what he can to keep her alive. In her desperation, she threw herself before him, begging him to take her soul. The thought of leaving him is unbearable, she would rather become like him instead of being without him. His refusal was both adamant and ferocious, telling her that he would not turn her into a monster to be enslaved on his ship. Since that night, she has pondered why he refused. What is another soul to him? If he truly did care about her well being, why would he deny her? Or maybe he is hoping she will die; the thought of spending a century with her unbearable.

Walking into a blackened mass, she is stopped by an unmovable force. It causes her to jolt backwards and look up at what got in her way.

The Captain stares down at her with a puzzled frown. "Maladroit, watch your step." He smiles slightly and returns to viewing through his spyglass, his eye scanning a lonely horizon.

And suddenly, it is as if the sun came out and brightened the entire sky. Her only source of happiness stands before her, and her mood improves instantly.

"Where are we? It is freezing."

Without moving, he states blankly, "ye're not in the Caribbean anymore, love."

"I am fully aware of that."

Jones lowers his spyglass to gaze down at the girl who brandishes a frustrated frown at him. His eyes trail farther south to her chest where her body betrays how cold she really is. The slight budding beneath her shirt sends Jones on high alert, but with a few crewmen straggling about, he chooses to hide the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Once again he places the spyglass to his eye. "Ye could cut glass with those things."

"I beg your pardon?"

Unable to hide the grin no longer, he looks down at her and points to her chest.

Once she realizes his source of amusement, she gasps and slaps his still pointing hand. She then promptly folds her arms again. "Filthy!"

"Sailor…"

"Where are we?" She shouts in exasperation.

"We're off the coast of Tierra del Fuego; by far this is the most southern distance I have travelled.

"Why are we here?" She shivers violently, wishing she could grab a hold of him and wrap herself in the lengths of his coat. But Jones is not one for body heat, in fact, she would probably end up colder.

"We are searching for a cure, are we not? That and there are always plenty of wrecks this time of year in these savage waters."

Her head springs up. "You are still searching? I had thought you had given it up a long time ago."

"Nigh." He returns to scanning the water in front of him.

"Oh thank you!" Liliana yelps and wraps her arms around his waist. Crew or not, she is relieved to know he is still trying to save her life.

"Proprieties, Miss Liliana." Jones states flatly but stifles a chuckle when her arms fly off his body with his reprimand.

"Sorry, Captain, I slipped on some ice here on the deck." She clears her throat and brushes herself off.

"Aye…"

"No, Captain I do mean it, be careful of your step, it is quite slick." Liliana looks past the man to see his clawed hand is actually grasping the exposed bulwark, causing the moisture laden wood to splinter beneath his grasp.

"Captain, that's quite the grip you have there." She looks down and has to hold back a giggle when she sees his legs spread wide in an attempt to balance himself.

"There's no need of me flying around deck like a drunken seagull."

"On the contrary, I would rather enjoy that scenario." She gently taps his peg leg with her foot.

"Knock it off, wench!" He spins around and is only angered further at the sight of her laughing.

Something light and cold graces Liliana's cheek. She looks up to see snow starting to fall. "Captain! Look…it's snowing!"

"Pah, I hate the stuff." He grumbles.

"Oh, you hate everything."

"That's not true. I only mildly despise _ye_."

She rolls her eyes and presses her hands into his back, hoping to slide on the ice forming beneath her. She met with a swat of his hand that barely misses her head. Her feet lose traction and she awkwardly slips across the deck.

"I hope ye fall on your ass!" He yells over his shoulder.

"Would you come help me up if I did?"

"Nay. I'd let ye swirl around and struggle a bit."

She laughs at the mental image he creates for her. "No you wouldn't. You'd run over here and pick me up."

The snow starts to fall faster and it begins to accumulate on deck, making the ice increasingly slippery. She continues playing freely on the coated deck. Jones stands there watching, slightly envious of her childlike freedom.

"Why did you not go eat before the men?" She slides directly behind him, bumping into him slightly which makes causes him readjust his position. He slaps his hand down, tightly coiling his tentacle finger around the rail. The spyglass lands on the deck with a hard 'clink' and a swear word escapes his mouth.

"Do ye think anyone would take me serious if they saw me sliding all over the place like a common drunk?"

She looks up at him through her snow speckled hair. "I should get you inebriated. That would be grand."

"Piss off…"

Her feet slip and her first instinct is to grab the nearest object, which happens to be a free floating tentacle. Her falling weight causes him to buckle over slightly.

Jones yells more from the surprise than the sharp pain it causes in his jawbone. "Woman! Watch it! Lest ye want to help me up!"

She regains her composure and snickers. "I most definitely would not help you up. You were going to leave me swirl and struggle about, right? I'd leave you stranded."

"Typical, useless woman." He turns away and smiles to himself, waiting for her fiery reaction.

The spark is lit within her and she grabs a handful of snow and forms a hard ball. She throws it at him with all her strength and it ends up pitching his hat straight off his head and onto the deck. She giggles behind her hand as she watches his eyes follow it downward.

The look on his face is one of shock and disgust. "COME 'ERE!"

"NO!" She shrieks with laughter. Trying to scramble away from him, her legs continuously fly out from underneath her. She looks back at him and only laughs harder, "you look like a torn sail flapping in the wind!"

"Get back…here!"

"Absolutely not, you have to promise you won't do anything to me!"

"What could I do to ye?" He growls as he throws his body heavily against the safety of the mast.

"Dangle me over board!"

"Girl, there have been many times that I would have relished in the process. But now is not one of them. Now get over here before ye fall!"

"I don't trust you!" She finds a patch of deck not covered in ice and to her surprise she is swept up into his arms, his strength crushing her in victory and protection.

"AH HA! Ye were right not to trust me!"

"Don't you even think about doing it! You will never see me naked again!"

"Petty threats will get ye nowhere, for they will never be fulfilled."

They laugh together, both knowing he speaks the truth. He turns around with her still splayed across his arms and then stops and develops a worried stare.

Through the falling snow Liliana can see the crew arriving on deck. She bursts out in a fit of laughter. "Put me down!" She slides out of his arms and carefully places her feet on the slick wood beneath them. "Explain this one, Captain!" She chuckles as she slides away.


	23. Chapter 23

Thick ice now burdens the _Dutchman_ in her travels. Each day that passes leaves her increasingly weighed down, a risk the Captain is not willing to take. Upon his orders everyone on board must begin the pain-staking job of chipping away the thick and unforgiving layers of ice from every surface it covers.

Liliana is not exempt from this task, she is handed a gully and is told to do what she can. She cannot help but feel slighted when she sees the rest of the crew wielding picks and axes.

"That's 'cause ye will only poke yer eye out." Koleniko snickers as he works at a particularly stubborn chunk of ice smothering vital rigging. "Ye just focus yer pretty little self on the deck there. We don't need ye chopping up the lines or cuttin' someone's fingers off…most likely yer own."

She places her hands on her hips and frowns at his backside. "Are you suggesting that…"

"'Tis not woman's work? Aye. If ye feel ye have the bollocks, come give this piece a try! I'd enjoy seeing that." He moves to one side and gives her a sarcastic bow.

Liliana lifts her chin to the air and walks over to where Koleniko had been chiseling away without much progress. The sun escapes the clouds for a brief moment, causing little rainbows of light to shimmer and dance throughout the inner core of the ice.

"It's beautiful…" she whispers to herself, running her fingers along the cold surface.

"Aye? 'Tis just ice, ye foolish nit." Koleniko stands behind her with his head tilted to the side in an attempt to figure out what has the girl so amazed.

"Can't you see it, Niko? The way the light gets trapped inside the folds of the ice there? It creates the most amazing colors and…OWWW!"

A sharp, cold slap on her backside forces her to turn around and glare at the source from which it came. She turns to see Clanker and the Bosun snickering.

"Right on the ass!" Clanker yells.

Liliana looks down at what came in contact with her behind. "That was a piece of ice! That really smarts!"

"I'm sure the Captain will kiss it better!" Jimmylegs jests with a wide grin showing off his dagger teeth.

"That is NOT funny…" Liliana turns to Koleniko for support but only finds him laughing as well. "Niko! I could use a little support here!"

"Sorry, love. I'm just glad for the distraction. It belayed ye from goin' on with whatever the hell ye were talking about just now."

She gasps in exasperation. "You men are vile creatures! Have you no respect for a woman in…OWWW!" Another cold smack, but this time a snowball to the back of her head.

She glares at the two men, noticing Jimmy has another snowball laying in wait. His thick, knotted fingers squeezing the snow hard into an icy weapon.

"That's it!" Seeing little choice in the matter, Liliana grabs a handful of snow.

"Show us what ye got little girl!" Clanker yells and does the same.

Within seconds, snowballs and chunks of ice begin to fly across the deck. Other crewmen not involved stare in disbelief or begin egging their choice winner on.

Liliana's hair quickly becomes matted with ice and snow, but her determination to punish the two fiends responsible forces her onward. Diving behind the safety and protection of the mast with Koleniko, they both assail their targets with snow. Or at least Koleniko does, Liliana tries in vain to hit Clanker but he dodges everything she sends his way. His snowballs, however, meet his target every time.

A snowball makes contact with her backside again, "Dammit! Would you stop aiming for my ass?"

Dead silence falls among the men upon hearing her less than ladylike language. It gives Liliana a chance to throw snow at Clanker with full force and it hits him in the chest. He just laughs at her and continues to deluge her with snow.

"When I am through with you, you will wish you were dead!" She excitedly yells to Clanker while dodging. She ignores that this new onslaught of snow is coming from Niko, who has obviously decided it is more fun to target her.

"You can't get any deader than the undead love!" Clanker yells aloud.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Davy appears on deck with Maccus by his side.

"Oh, shit!" Clanker groans and drops the snow in his hands and the entire crew goes silent.

"Who started this?" Davy storms across the deck and glares at Liliana and the men. His eyes spark with rage as he considers each one of them.

"She did, sir!" Clanker points to the girl on his left.

Her mouth drops and words escape before she can think. "YOU BASTARD!" She smacks a snowball in his face.

"ENOUGH!" Davy yells and drags her forward. "Did ye start this?"

"No…"

"Because ye realize horseplay such as this is not tolerated on my ship!" He looks down at her menacingly.

"I didn't start it, Captain!"

"But ye kept it going and ye finished it!" He points to Clanker who still has snow on his face. "Behave yourself, I will deal with ye later!" He spins around and storms away.

Enraged, Liliana picks up snow and throws it at him, hitting him on the back. He spins around and glares at her with intense ferocity.

"He did it!" She points to Clanker.


	24. Chapter 24

His heavy hand stirs her from a disturbing slumber. She jumps at the sight of the blackened figure in front of her. Only the light caress of his knuckles across her cheek identifies him in the darkened room.

When he is certain she is calm, he stands and walks over to a mounted lantern near the door. His years of living in darkness have left his ancient eyes keen, even without a trace of light. "Ye were having that nightmare again, aye?" A quick breath extinguishes the match between his fingers and the candle slowly begins to illuminate the room. Eerie shadows begin to dance along the bulkhead of the room, looking very much like lost souls escaping the purity of its light.

Liliana rubs the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hands. "Yes," she mumbles after a yawn, "I cannot sleep without the torture." The Kraken has chased her in her dreams for weeks now, leaving her terrified and struggling for a reason for this celestial torment. She suddenly forgets her dreams and soaks in the sound of nothingness, a rare sound on a ship. "It's quiet. Have we anchored?"

"Nigh, but we have forestalled our travels for the time being. We don't have much time." He picks up a thick wool coat that had recently been harvested from a wreck. It had once kept a young sailor warm in these frigid southern waters, and now it belongs to Liliana in his early demise.

"Where…" she looks to the cathedral like windows above the pipe organ, "it is still dark."

"Aye, that's the plan. The crew is below deck where they belong at this time of night. 'Tis too cold for a night watch and this water too frigid to dive beneath, so we will have no interference. They must not know both of us are leaving the ship." He motions with his hand for her to rise out of bed, her stalling causing impatience to grow within him.

"Leave? I cannot leave the ship. Will you please inform me of what is going on?" She asks when he grabs her hand to pull her up.

"I have spent many arduous weeks pouring over countless maps and books looking for a cure to your mortality and ye are going to question me now?"

She looks up to scan his face in the gloomy darkness, and when he softly smiles down at her, sudden relief flows through her veins. "You found something?"

"I _think_ I may have found something. A bloody bunch of mixed up riddles have led us here so this better be it. Ye had better thank me for deciphering them regardless of finding the cure, for all the headaches it caused."

She places a hand on the firmness of his abdomen, allowing her warmth to spread there. Her fears of him not wanting her here, of wishing her to perish can now be put to rest. "I can never thank you enough."

Jones snorts at the discomfort her gaze causes him, a mixture of lust and compassion, two emotions he would prefer not to have unless he can have her in his grasp for hours. "I can think of a way ye can thank me later."

* * *

><p>Under the cover of night, Jones can transfer effortlessly to anywhere oceanic water is, even if it is in a frozen state. Unsure if it would work, he held her close to carry her with him. He chuckled aloud when he found himself on the frozen shore of a nearby island with her still in his arms.<p>

Liliana's knees buckle underneath her when he lowers her to the ground, the process having drained all her energy.

Jones grabs for her before she falls. "Hmm, this had better be it, ye are getting weaker." Before leaving the _Dutchman_, he had informed her of the risk of leaving the ship again, but it was necessary if he had found the answer.

She looks up to him as he offers his arm for support. "Thank you, but you cannot cross the sand."

"Don't need to." Jones looks ahead along the shore. "This ice is rugged from the waves, and it continues to where we need to go." He points his clawed arm to his right. "See there, that is where we must go."

Liliana squints past him in the darkness, she can barely make out what appears to be an opening to a massive cave. "I am afraid I will need your guidance, Captain, I cannot see."

"Do not worry, once ye have this, ye will be able to see the wind."

* * *

><p>The short journey down the beach turned out to be a long and complicated process. They take turns laughing at each other's expense as they clumsily make their way over huge boulders of ice. The rushing ocean threatens with icy fingers on one side, while a slate rock cliff blocks them from moving farther inland. Jones gets frustrated and decides to brave the ocean instead.<p>

"Isn't that cold?" Liliana asks in disbelief.

"On the contrary, it's warming me up." Jones snickers in his own expense as he splashes confidently through the waves, "here we are." He pauses to glance up at the cavernous mouth of the cave. Monstrous stalactites of ice hang like jagged teeth that threaten to seize them once they enter. Jones notices her apprehension. "Feels like home, quaint in fact."

Liliana shudders from the cold and the thought of entering. However, her life depends on it, and he has worked so hard to get her this far. She smiles at the thought.

Jones pulls out a worn map and scans it in the darkness.

She leans in to place her head on his arm, a rare moment of tenderness that isn't hidden beneath the deck of the _Dutchman_. "What is it like to be able to see in the dark?"

"Helpful."

"Davy!" His answer does not solve her question, nor does his sarcasm.

"What?" He looks down to frown at her. "Ye don't see me tripping over objects in the dark." He pauses in thought. "Not that it will help ye any, ye trip over obvious obstacles in broad daylight."

"You, sir, are not funny," she laughs as she allows a tentacle to swirl possessively around her hand.

"I don't know, I think I'm rather blithe. Now, this says that 'the royal phoenix hides in plain sight beyond the mouth of the glacial dragon'."

"Right," Liliana steps forward in the darkness. "So that means we go inside. And whatever we are looking for…what are we looking for?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Jones drawls as he considers each step he takes on the frozen ocean that leads into the cave. "Phoenix should indicate something bright. As for the rest, I suppose we will figure out once we get inside."

* * *

><p>They journeyed for an hour inside the depths of the cave. The further they travelled, the more the walls of the cavern shrank to consume them with its thick, bubbly ice. Unable to see the nose on her own face, Liliana clung to Jones' arm, allowing him to guide the way. When she thought she saw a hint of turquoise light, she assumed her eyes were playing tricks on her mind. As they continued on, the light became more brilliant. She loosened her grip from his arm now that she could make her own way and giggled to see that he now had to stoop over to avoid hitting his head off the rocky ceiling. When they rounded a final corner, Liliana's jaw dropped at the beauty before her.<p>

The cave ending was filled with sheets of ice that reflected perfect images of them both. The turquoise light was now bright and luminescent. Jones smiled down at her to see her wonder, her pale skin taking on the glow of the light. He watched as her breath travelled up and pillowed on the ice above their heads. He had never paid attention to this before, forgetting the last time he had witnessed the solidification of his own breath, but here witnessing her amazement, it made it seem important to note. He had always seen her as somewhat plain, but here in this magic, she glows radiantly. She walks around gazing at the ice, looking past her reflection into the depths of the varying shades of blue. But all he sees is the smiling image of her.

"Why is it so blue?" She looks back to him, which seems to cause him to shake his head.

"When an iceberg is not fully frozen throughout, the water inside keeps the ocean's hue in memory. One can never freeze the entire ocean, ye see."

Liliana enjoys his poetic explanation and beams a brilliant smile. "It's beautiful."

Jones catches his breath and smiles back at her, his eyes never leaving her face. "I've seen better."

She blushes and turns away to hide it from him. She clears her throat, "so what is next, Captain?"

"Ah," Jones pulls out the map once more, grateful for the interruption. "The next intimation says 'only those who emulate equivalent radiance can soften the ice to find the royal phoenix." He reaches out to place his hand on the ice and catches the reflection of his own scowling face when nothing happens.

"What on earth does that mean?" Liliana moves closer to gaze into the ice.

Jones turns toward her in realization. "It's ye, Lil. Ye are the one that has to find it."

"Me? How?"

"Close your eyes."

She does as commanded.

"Now listen to me. What do ye want most in this world?"

_You_. She whispers to herself without his hearing.

"Think of how that makes you feel."

Behind her closed eyes, the image of him embracing her in his protective arms begins to dance in her mind. Unconsciously, she smiles as the warmth of his body envelops her. In her ear, he whispers what she has longed to hear, "_I love ye_." She opens her eyes and regards him carefully.

"Touch the ice." Jones whispers.

She reaches her hand forward; her fingers gently prod the blue surface. She gasps when they penetrate into the depths, the water inside bubbles around her flesh, going from freezing cold to comfortably warm. Her index finger catches something metallic as she pushes in farther. She instinctively clutches her hand and pulls back. A glistening metallic chain with a turquoise amulet hangs from her fingers.

"AH HA! Ye found it!" Jones proclaims.

The light within the ice dims and the room goes to darkness.

"What now?" Liliana asks him, no longer sure of where he stands.

"Put it on."

Again, she does as she is told. She places the loop over her head and allows her skin to absorb the sensation of the cool metal. "I don't feel any different." She looks up and suddenly realizes she can see her lover standing there in the darkness. "Davy, I can see!"

Jones takes a step forward to claim her hand in his. "Ye now have all the powers of an oceanic immortal."

Thousands of questions begin to race through her mind. What does that mean? Her excitement is overwhelming until she looks up at Jones who has been looking benevolently at her. It suddenly occurs to her, "you've gone through all this trouble just for me. You truly want me to stay."

He says nothing, but instead gives her a simple nod.

She gently squeezes his hand under her fingers. "Thank you for protecting me, for guiding me, for being beside me all this time."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." He bends down to her and gently presses his lips to hers.


	25. Chapter 25

The growing light in the morning sky has become a symbol of the end. With this faint radiance, they are reminded of the responsibility and the never ending chores that accompany this ship. It is in the dark that they find the solitude and peace they so desperately crave.

She is stirred by the tender pressing of his lips to her forehead. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, are forced open to meet his gaze. Liliana recognizes that look on his face, the one of regret for the day starting mixed with the inevitable awareness of knowing that this bliss has to end.

She smiles as a tentacle reaches forward to swirl around the cerulean amulet that lies softly between her collar bones. It disappears into his grasp. Without a word spoken, they both know what this jewel represents. It is their hope for the future, an understanding of what could have been but will not be.

With what seems like excessive effort, Jones lifts his weathered body from the mattress to dress. He turns with an expression of mild surprise on his face. "I forgot, I have a surprise for ye today."

* * *

><p>Knowing that the crew would not have changed watch, Jones leads her out on deck with only her nightshift on. Despite her protests, he was too eager to wait for her to dress. To ward off the early morning chill, he places his coat over her shoulders for warmth.<p>

"So what is this surprise that has you acting like an excited child, Captain?" Liliana shivers as she peers up at him through the growing light. His smile is contagious, so she returns the gesture. "You look very proud of yourself for some reason."

"Look out there, what do you see?" His head tilts leeward.

Liliana squints through the darkness. "A black mass," she pauses as she catches the sight of his furrowing brow with the corner of her eye, "an island?"

"Yes, an island. And it is all yours."

"An entire island just for me? Whatever for?"

Jones notices movement up at the helm and knows that his crew is beginning to stir. He clears his throat and places his attention back on the girl before him. "For putting up with me all these months. For surviving the crew and being reliable in your chores." He checks himself mentally. That was not what he wanted to say at all. While he still does not – and will not - love her, he thinks to himself, he enjoys making her happy. Her smile seems to make life easier to bare.

Unable the temptation to taunt him, Liliana leans in closer. "Do you give gifts to all your well-behaved crew members, Captain?"

"No, I don't reap from them the certain benefits ye give me." He chuckles when she slaps his arm.

"Vulgar sailor." She scoffs. Remembering the power of the amulet now hanging around her neck, she squints to focus on her very large gift. She can make out tall trees and a rocky shoreline, but nothing more. Jones' hand comes down softly on her shoulder to lead her back below deck. As she follows, she leans into his body, "can I go there?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to visit my island."

Jones casually ignores her request. "Not sure how ye will get out there."

* * *

><p>"You're going to what?" Davy shouts with a concerned tone that catches the attention of every crew member on deck.<p>

"You heard me. I'm going to swim there. It is only fair I get to play with my gift, is it not? Tell me, are the natives friendly?"

Jones stands there staring down at her with a look of puzzlement on his face. "It is uninhabited…"

"Splendid, then it is all mine!"

Catching the curious gazes of the crew, Jones leans in close to her ear to avoid being heard. "It is a gift in name only, girl."

Liliana leans in closer, almost pressing her cheek to his. "I need off this stinking tub, Captain. My chores are completed for the morning, and because I now can, I would greatly appreciate the feeling of terra firma under my feet at this point." Her russet eyes dart up to meet his, silently telling him she's not going to back down on this matter. "And as we were discussing this morning, you will only continue to reap the benefits of this relationship if I get to appreciate my gift."

Jones jolts back with a snort. Not willing to find out if her threat will become reality, he instead decides to make a show out of her disobedience. He walks around her, arms folded behind his back, examining her carefully with fake scrutiny. "So, Mistress," he announces aloud, "ye be looking to jump ship after all this time aboard? Let it be known that your decision will not come without consequence," he leans in over her shoulder, "and there be sharks down there."

Liliana smirks and glances to her right where the First Mate stands. "There are sharks here as well, Captain."

"Very well, Mistress." He continues his pacing around her. "And how will ye be getting off the ship?"

"I'll dive in."

Jones halts to a stop. His eyes widen as he glares down at her, sending her a silent 'NO'.

Liliana breaks away from his gaze and walks over to the rails. She examines the darkness of the water below and calculates her decision based on all the nautical information the Captain has given her since she came aboard. "The island has a sharp drop off. The ship can cast anchor close to the island so that we are not that far off, I can make it in a few minutes."

"We will not be accommodating that, Mistress…" Jones stifles the urge to lurch forward and grab her as he watches her climb up over the rail and stand there with delicate balance. For the first time ever, she now looks down upon him. With the crew standing around whispering as they watch this scenario, Jones steps forward wanting to impress his authority upon her, but finds himself more concerned about her falling. The knowledge of this makes him feel helpless and his temper flares. "Have ye gone completely mad?"

"I must have, Captain." She lifts one foot and twists it around the other one and elegantly turns around. "But then again, most would assume I went mad long ago for staying aboard this ship for as long as I have!"

A familiar voice blasts from the gathered crowd, a voice she recognizes as Clanker's. "Ye'll be sinkin' with all that clothing on, ye should take it off!"

Completely irate now, Jones spins around to the sound of the voice. His icy stare causes the entire crew to shrink back. When he turns back around, Liliana is nowhere to be seen and then the sound of a loud splash is heard. His aching, old legs carry him swiftly to the side of the ship where he leans over to see only white foam on the surface of the glassy water. "Oh, I am too aged for this nonsense…" He mutters to himself.

What seems like minutes later, Liliana's head pops out of the water and she inhales a deep breath. She smiles to herself. She had no idea if she could swim before she jumped, and now she knows she indeed can. The cool water surrounding her body is refreshing and freeing. She looks up to see a mass of writhing tentacles hanging out over the side of the ship. A few crewmen now gather next to him to see her outcome.

"Just how do ye think ye'll be getting back on board?" Jones yells down to her.

She hadn't thought about that. "You'll have to come and get me!"

"Dammit, woman! I have more important things to do! I'd rather leave ye here!"

"Very well." She yells back and starts heading for shore.

Jones straightens, taken aback by her courage and response. Knowing he has been defeated by this tiny imp of a woman, he takes a deep breath to regain composure, "prepare the longboat for when she returns."

* * *

><p>She collapses onto the white sand when she reaches the shore, partly from exhaustion from the long swim, the rest from relief to feel solid ground. As the waves crash into her, she soaks in the warmth of the sand beneath her. She lifts her head to see the form of the <em>Dutchman<em>, now a small figure on the horizon. She can almost feel his gaze on her from this distance.

"I'm not coming back!" She yells with laughter. "This is one soul you cannot control, Old Hob!"

She spends the day wandering and exploring her island. The salty ocean air mingles with the sweet fragrance of blooming exotic flowers. She picks a proud looking, scarlet-hued hibiscus and places it in her hair. The tree branches hang heavy with fruit of all shapes, sizes and colors. As she travels, she enjoys the sight of seeing only her footprints in the sand. For the first time, she is truly alone.

Colorful birds perch in the branches above and sing their territorial love songs to her. She is amazed by their beauty and freedom as their little bodies of greens, yellows and magnificent reds flutter from tree to tree. The occasional butterfly floats by on shimmering wings, too busy on its hunt for nectar to notice her presence. Dragonflies dart about, their large, delicate wings crackling as they go.

_'This truly is paradise. I have found the Garden of Eden_, she thinks to herself as she bites into an unknown fruit. The sugary fluid causes her taste buds to dance with the flavor. For months now, she has survived off of salty fish, water-logged spices and stale breads. This place seems like a dream.

Through her travels she comes across a bubbling stream that trickles down from a crack in a massive rock in the side of a cliff. The water is cool and shaded by a shroud of palm trees. The clear water pools in the sand before spilling out into the sea, so she sinks down into it to cool off from the heat of the day. She cups her hands and brings the water to her lips. She lets out a soft sigh as she swallows the first drink of fresh water she's had since meeting Davy. No taste of treated wood or algae, just pure, fresh water.

* * *

><p>"Time to board."<p>

The sound of a male voice shocks her from her reverie. Maccus stands there on shore next to a longboat, looking less than impressed to be there. The sky is now darkening; she must have fallen asleep while relaxing in the pool.

When she finally boards, she finds herself disappointed by the feel of the weathered deck beneath her feet. She sighs as she looks back to her refuge, her freedom lost. She is informed that the Captain is waiting for her in his quarters.

Expecting an ear full for her earlier behavior, she takes a deep breath as she pushes the door open. His eyes lift from his map to meet hers and then drop to what she has in her hands.

"Sea shells." She announces proudly as she spills them out of her apron onto the floor where she takes a seat. "I'm hoping to identify what species they are."

Davy shrugs and goes back to his work. "Junk."

"They are not junk! They are beautiful and I like them."

"If ye found it on land, it is land junk!" He grumbles and then takes a deep inhale from his pipe. "Besides, we have plenty of them here."

The smell of his smoke has become familiar to Liliana, a smell she has come to enjoy. She watches it as it curls out of his mouth and billows up to the ceiling. "Not like these, these are beautiful and they will forever remind me of my gift from you." She says while examining the smooth, spotted surface of her favorite shell, hoping that her sentiment may somehow spread to him.

He watches her silently for a few seconds before turning away, "bah!"

"Something troubling you, Captain?"

"Aye! Ye didn't clean them properly; look at the sand on my floor! Ye know I cannot touch sand!"

"Yes, I am well aware. I am planning on spreading it around me to act as a barrier. But that is not what has you troubled, you are merely avoiding my question."

Moments pass with Jones grumbling something to himself before he speaks to her again. "What were ye trying to prove by diving off the side like that?"

"How else was I to get off the ship?"

He frowns down at her. "What if ye had lost the amulet?"

"I didn't." She pulls the jewel from out under her shirt.

"Disobedient pack rat…" he mumbles under his breath.

"I heard that!" Liliana stands and takes her treasures over to the table where she places them carefully for display. "Your concern seems excessive as of late. I can't so much as breathe without you giving your input into it! You are confusing the hell out of me, you cantankerous old goat!"

Jones spins around in his chair to stare her down. "Ye…ye…BITCH!"

Liliana slams her fists on the table and spins around. "That is it!" She storms out of the room, leaving him to sit there puzzled. She slams the door upon returning and slaps two cups and a handful of dice onto the table.

"What's this?"

"I am calling your bluff, sir. You seem to think you can control my every whim. One minute you treat me like I am all you will ever need, the next I am…as you put it, a bitch!" She pokes a finger into his chest. "If I win, you can no longer call me that word and you will stop treating me poorly just because you cannot have your way. If you win, I will obey your every command for an entire week. I will not argue, I will not fight back, and you will have complete control of me."

"Only a week? Not a fair wager, love, considering I have to stop what I'm doing permanently." He leans back in his chair with a smug expression on his face. "Aren't ye being overly confident here?"

"The stakes have been laid out. Choose them or lose them."

He chuckles heartily at her boldness. "Maybe we should make that a week of complete silence for ye then?"

"Very well, but if I have to be silent for a week plus obey you, then you now have to be my slave for a week if I win."

Jones lowers a brow and looks deep into her eyes, when he sees she is not bluffing, his sense of male pride and intrigue are triggered. "I like those odds."

Simultaneously, they slam their cups down onto his desk. Liliana extends her hand to suggest that he goes first.

"Two fours." The Captain announces.

"Three sixes."

"Four threes." He scans her face and waits for her next move. He has played this game for centuries; there is no way she can out smart him. "Who taught ye to play this anyway?"

"Four ones." She says while staring through him. "I have watched plenty a game to know enough to play."

"Five twos." He grins as the odds get higher to beat. "But can ye out play me?"

"Yes, five fives!"

He shakes his head at her boldness. "Liar."

He lifts her cup expecting to see dismal numbers but exposes three fives, a two, and a three. He slaps the cup down with a shocked expression on his face. Liliana reaches over and lifts his cup and find two fives, two threes and a four.

"I win! I win!" She reaches over, grabs his face and kisses him squarely on the lips. Jumping to her feet, she dances around the room in victory.

"There is such thing as a sore winner ye know!"

She walks confidently over to him and sits on his lap. "Now, my little servant man, you shall no longer refer to me in such a negative manner. The word 'bitch' is now stripped from your vocabulary."

He takes a deep breath, fighting to keep his patience while trying to understand how he lost. "Fine, anything else, your Majesty?"

"Hmm, I like that! For the whole week, you shall only refer to me as such. You might as well get used to treating me like royalty, the name will help."

"You're a royal something, I can tell ye that!"


	26. Chapter 26

Finally, Liliana has the upper hand. For an entire week, the Captain must obey her command. She is aware that he most likely allowed her to beat him in their game of liar's dice, but that doesn't stop the spirited young girl from rubbing it in every chance she gets.

At first, the Captain took the constant reminders of his loss with good humor, but as the days achingly pass with no relief in sight, he finds himself struggling to not lash out verbally. A man of his word, he promised to mind his manners with the girl for an entire week. No yelling or name calling of any kind. Not an easy task when she is deliberately trying to bring forth his wrath. Instead, the Captain bites his tongue and walks away grumbling profanities under his breath, unwilling to lose what dignity he has remaining.

He catches himself wanting to refer to this annoying little pest with the usual defamatory word devoted to her. The past few days this particular word has entered his mind quite frequently.

"What were you just going to call me?" Liliana caught him off guard as the "B" formed upon his lips. "Because, Captain, I do believe that word is forbidden now."

Jones looked to the heavens and questioned if this was payback for his sins of the past. "Ye know, right about now I'm mighty tempted to take that bobble off your neck and throw ye over board!" He pointed viciously at the azure jewel laying protected between her collar bones and then stormed away for solace. Never before has he been so exasperated, likening her to a cockroach gnawing its way into his brain.

Her jabs at his ego are bad enough in private, but since threatening to throw her off the ship, the incorrigible girl has now taken up the task of informing every crewman who will listen – which is almost all.

"He let ye win!" Koleniko snickers as he waits for dinner to be served.

"Perhaps, but do you honestly think he would allow me to go this far with torturing him? I do not think the Captain would allow me to torment him so if he lost on purpose. Besides, I saw his hand, I had guessed correctly." Liliana sniffles and wipes the tears from her eyes as she slices the wild onions she found on shore. "I have him right where I want him."

"Hmm, by the bullocks it seems…"

Liliana spins around and catches the sailor biting into a piece of bread. "You are so vulgar!"

Koleniko shrugs and speaks through the bread, "'tis true…"

She turns back to her work to hide the smile that forms on her face. It may be vulgar, but it seems accurate at this point, almost enjoyable.

Reaching over for a piece of salted meat, Niko continues. "Why does it matter now? Ye've always had him bend to yer every whim."

Angered by his assumption and stealing of food before it is ready, she reaches over and raps his hand with a wooden spoon. "I did not call for dinner, stop eating! And that is not true; I obey him far more often than he ever listens to me."

"Sure…"

"And what does that mean?"

"Do ye have to ask? 'Tis obvious the Captain is so kind to ye because ye give him what he wants." The coxswain's eyes wander to plate of meat before him and then back to the girl who guards it.

"How dare you!"

"What? Ye sleep in the same room! Don't think we haven't seen the way the two of ye go on! Do ye think me a fool, girl?"

Feeling her cheeks flush, she turns her back to him. "This is not appropriate conversation."

"Yer a sailor now, aren't ye? And what do sailors talk about?"

She spins around again and grabs a piece of meat out of his spiny hand. "Filth! Vulgarities! And anything else that would make a civilized man blush!

Koleniko reaches over and grabs the meat away from her and sticks it in his mouth. "Yer a fast learner." He pauses to chew the rubbery meat, "nothing wrong with it, yer about the only one who can use it to yer advantage."

The galley door swings open to expose the Captain. "Boy, get out on deck NOW."

Shrugging, the coxswain swipes another piece of bread and saunters out the door.

Liliana rubs her face hoping to remove any trace of her embarrassment. "How much of that did you hear?"

"I hear everything." Jones states flatly as he stands staring at her. "Ye and I need to converse. This little wager has gone on long enough."

"Oh no, I still have two days left. You are not backing out of our deal now."

Jones remains motionless, still contemplating her with his eyes.

"What? You can't handle being under the control of a woman?" Liliana folds her arms and smiles.

"No."

"Pity." She turns around and continues her work. A shiver creeps down her spine and a cold whisper of air flows down her neck. She turns around and gasps to see that he is now directly behind her. "I hate when you do that! Can't you just walk so I know you are coming?"

"No."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I need this wager to end."

"Whatever for?"

"My ten years have expired."

"I beg your pardon?" Liliana nonchalantly rubs her hands free of the onions' juices. She looks up to see Jones' eyes narrow.

"Ye are the only person I can rely on in these matters and ye just brush me off? Of all people, ye should know what the significance of this time is for me." His voice becomes harsh and agitated.

She pauses to think back on all the nights they stayed awake talking. "Isla Cruces."

* * *

><p>The sun begins to rise over the blackened silhouette of Isla Cruces. Jones stands stoic in the shadows, his gaze never wandering from the horizon. Occasionally, he releases a deep sigh but says nothing more.<p>

Two days prior, Liliana caught a glimpse of the trepidation and sadness that her lover has been feeling for centuries now. She did not question this, only respected his need for silence. Since that moment in the galley, he has not spoken to a soul on board. She walks over to him now, leaning her head on his tense arm.

"All this time, I have thought that these men aboard this ship were the captives and you were their captor. I have thought that you had control over this. But you are just as much a prisoner as they are."

Jones' eyes slowly turn down in her direction and then his heavy head follows. "Aye. Their souls belong to this ship, mine to this island."

She protectively wraps her hands around his arm while burying her face into the rough fabric of his sleeve. "Why must you come back here if it tortures you so?"

"I have to confirm its presence."

"But if someone had your heart, wouldn't they control you? It could have been taken years ago, and you wouldn't know it?"

Her question agitates him; the thought of his heart being taken is one that disturbs him deeply. "They would have to present the exposed heart to me. As longs as it remains in the chest, I am free."

She looks up at him longingly. "But you are not free."

* * *

><p>The sun creeps higher into the sky, bringing forth the scorching heat of the day. Upon reaching shore, Liliana wades into the shallow water to make her way onto land. The pearl white sand is already hot under her feet and she enjoys the sight and feel of the small grains sticking to her skin. She looks back to see Jones rising from the depths, every step taken proudly, as he travels through the waves.<p>

He stops before leaving his element fully, contemplating the foreign matter known as land. His eyes dart toward her, seeing her questioning gaze. He sighs heavily and prepares himself for what he knows he cannot avoid.

He takes a step forward and his boot plants firmly in place. His crab leg leaves the protection of the water and plummets deep into the sand upon impact. He takes another step, and then sinks again.

Liliana clasps her hand over her mouth at the sight of this dignified man now hobbling along in the sand.

"Shut it, woman!" He growls defensively at her giggling.

"You look ridiculous, I'm afraid, like one leg is much shorter than the other…"

He stops and takes a deep breath, trying to hold his temper. "Woman, damn your eyes, it cannot be helped!" As he continues to step and sink, his head remains high despite his obvious embarrassment.

"Captain, if you had blood in your body, I'm sure you'd be blushing." The girl giggles at this new found vulnerability she sees in him.

"Get over here and help me!"

"Get off the sand! Get on the grass." Liliana runs over to a patch of dried beach grass to show him that it is firmer there.

"Bloody hell, that doesn't help me!"

"Watch your tone, or I'll leave you there to figure it out yourself." She turns around and sees a large stick hidden in the grass, and then mumbles to herself, "You've been doing this for centuries, and now you struggle?" She walks over to him and presents the stick to him.

"Here, put your weight on this, and I'll support you as you walk."

"Oh yes, you'll support me? More like you'll slow my falling down on top of ye."

* * *

><p>Liliana allowed him to walk ahead of her as they travelled towards the burial site. His normal gait returned, he confidently strolls along, forcing the short statured girl to walk quickly to keep up.<p>

Jones had sent a few of his most trusted crewman ahead to dig up the chest before his arrival. One man announces aloud that the Captain has arrived. Seeing that more sand lay in front of him, Jones calls to have the chest brought to him where he stands safely amongst the grass. He specifically requested that the large trunk be left where it was buried, unwilling to allow his mistress to see all the love letters and dried flowers that were once devoted to another woman.

"Now, leave me be." Davy orders the crew. He waits to watch as each man disappears from sight. "There be another reason why I send them ahead, Mistress."

Liliana's intense examination of the detailed carvings on the chest is interrupted by his voice. "Sorry?"

"Ye think I want them witnessing me wobble around like a headless chicken?"

"Hmm, yes, you wouldn't appear very frightening, that's for sure. Knowing Niko and Clanker, they'd push you down and run." She looks up at him and is relieved to see him chuckle slightly at the obvious truth in her statement. "So this is it?"

Slowly, his aged body bends and kneels in front of the chest. From under his serpentine beard, the key appears. "Aye, this is it." He unlocks the chest and looks over at the curious girl. "There's no way I can prepare ye for this one."

He opens the chest and reveals its contents. Liliana stifles a gasp at the sight of the pulsing heart. A deep, burdening sadness overwhelms her when she sees the relief on his face. His entire world is captured in this one moment, relying on his heart being there. She thinks about all the times she has rested her head on his chest, never hearing a heartbeat. The massive scar told a story of his agony, but seeing his heart outside his body while he still lives and breathes makes it real for her now.

His cold hand reaches over and cups her cheek. She kisses his fingers as they trace her lips. "How could you do this to yourself?"

He responds with a heavy sigh, his eyes never leaving the throbbing organ. "I wanted to remove the pain and any feelings I had left. I've told ye that."

"But don't you see? Removing your heart didn't do that at all. You still feel pain and other emotions. You still have feelings even if they are dulled slightly."

No response. He only continues to stare.

She reaches forward and closes the lid. His trance is broken and looks at her, confused.

"I never realized the pain you must have gone through to do this. But I cannot help feeling slighted. This woman chose to leave you, chose not to love you, and despite your efforts, your actions have eternally devoted yourself to her."

"How's that?" Jones looks down to examine her saddened face for an explanation.

"You removed your heart to remove any trace of her, but in that you've removed any chances of me taking her place. Therefore, she will always be first in your life. You will always come here. And I will always be second to that. No matter what I do, or how much I love you, I will never get what she had…and what she chose to leave behind."

"If I had known ye were to come along, if I had any indication of what could have been, I would not have done it." Jones tries to reassure her.

Liliana rises to her feet. "You don't understand. Who she loved is not who I love now. I couldn't possibly love the old you because that is not who you are now." She turns and walks away.

"And where are ye going?"

"Back to the ship, Captain, where I belong."

"Dammit, Lil! I cannot change the past!" His aching body struggles to rise.

"I'm not asking you to, Captain. I only wish you could see me the way you saw her."


	27. Chapter 27

Liliana stands at the bow of the _Dutchman_, watching the crew harvest materials and souls from a recent shipwreck. Her heart sinks knowing that this was supposed to be her fate. What is it that made her worth saving when compared to any other soul? Why did the Captain choose her?

This question has been running through her mind relentlessly since their time on Isla Cruces. The painful realization occurred to her there, no matter how hard she tries or how much she loves him, he will never love her back. She had always held on to the hope that maybe someday he would grow to love her somehow. But as long as he continues to hold on to that memory - which will be for an eternity - she will never feel the love he gave to her. She will always be second to a memory.

She watches the man she loves as he decides the fate of those still clinging to life. Perhaps now that she feels his pain can she understand why he is truly so heartless.

"Ye best not be watchin' that."

Liliana turns around to the sound of Koleniko's voice. He had been put in charge to watch over her while the Captain does his ghostly duty. She steps down from the rails and joins him at his side.

"It's best ye don't witness what happens when they say 'no'."

A chill flows through the air; once again the ship has travelled into colder waters. Liliana instinctively rubs her hands over her arms to create warmth. She looks to the man in front of her, his blue eye examining her carefully. Since she met Koleniko, she has felt safe with him. He has defended her, protected her, and despite his tormenting, made her laugh when she felt like crying. As she looks upon him now, she feels a strong, unexplainable connection to him. She feels an urge to know more about him. His language has taken on the harshness of sailors, and yet he speaks with wisdom that seems beyond his years.

"How old were you when you chose to join the crew?"

He laughs at her question. "It wasn't much of a choice, miss. I was only a lad when I found myself in front of the Cap'n. Much younger than ye are right now."

"A shipwreck? Like that one?" She turns in the direction of the harvest.

"Aye." He says. "Near two decades ago now."

"I assumed your time here was much shorter than the other men. You're not as far gone as the bosun or the navigator."

"Aye. They've been on this ship a long time. They are slowly becoming a part of her." He reaches out and runs his hand down the weathered mast. His face shows a mixture of devotion and anguish.

"Doesn't that scare you? Becoming like poor Wyvern down there?" Liliana thinks of the first time she came across the ancient mariner who has now become attached to the hull of this cursed ship. It seems to be a deal you can never rescind, you commit a century of your life to the _Dutchman_ and her captain, all the while slowly becoming part of her so that you never leave in the end.

"More than ye know!" he laughs at her innocent questioning. "But I made a deal with the Cap'n, and I can't go back on it now."

Liliana's eyes narrow in examination of his demeanor. "You're loyal to him, aren't you?"

"I have been since he found me. How else would I have been able to become the coxswain in such a short period of time after arriving on board?"

"You must have been terrified when he first approached you, being so small…"

"Were you?"

"At first, yes. But something told me not to fear him." She contemplates.

"Aye. I suppose the Cap'n has a soft spot for women and children. I know he removed his heart to get rid of feelin's and all, but I don't think it worked all that well. He's never given me a reason to fear him so long as I do my work. I know well enough not to get on his bad side." He pauses, "The Cap'n and the _Dutchman_ are all I know. We have something in common, you and I, in that I don't remember much of my life before this either."

Liliana walks over to a nearby cannon and decides it would make a good enough seat. "What do you remember? If you don't mind me asking."

"Time on this ship has a way of removing fond memories. I remember I had a family, a mother, father and a younger sister. I must have been ten when we were in the wreck. I cannot remember their voices or their faces."

"So they must have..."

"Perished. The sea claimed them." He says, looking out at the water.

"You must miss them."

"Every day."

"I wish I had someone to miss, someone to miss me."

"No ye don't. Trust me; ye are better off not knowing what ye would be missing." Koleniko picks up a line to coil; the fading memories of his family are still visible enough to disturb him.

"So, I suppose you wouldn't be much older than I?"

"Nigh. Do you even know how old ye are?"

"Not really, perhaps six and twenty, according to the Captain."

Koleniko thinks back to their last conversation and how he bluntly confronted her with her affair with the Captain. "I know we harass ye, Miss Lil, but I for one am sure glad to have ye here. Ye seem to do some good with the Cap'n, he's less likely the beat the piss out of ye when yer around."

"Thank you." She says with a smile while mentally avoiding the latter half of his compliment. "And you don't have to be so formal, Lil is fine. It's what the Captain calls me."

"Exactly, 'tis a right good reason why I need to keep the formalities. The Cap'n wouldn't think kindly of me calling ye only by name."

"You never mind him! Call me Lil."

"Aye?" Niko straightens at her boldness, impressed. "Very well…Lil."

"There, see?" Liliana smiles and places her hand softly on his spine covered shoulder. "No harm done." She can feel his muscles tense with her touch, his eyes examining her carefully. Seeing his discomfort, she removes her hand but continues to smile softly to reassure him.

"No one has touched me like that in twenty years."

She lifts her hand to show it to him. "And look, not a scratch!"

* * *

><p>Since her time on deck with Niko, she has spent any free time she has speaking with him. Something drives her to learn everything she can about this man. She has yet to identify what that is, but she is grateful for the growing companionship she is forming with him.<p>

At first, she tried to keep it hidden from the Captain, fearing he may not approve of this friendship with another man. Her assumption was correct; he disapproved strongly, claiming it was improper of her to befriend a man without his knowledge of it first. She quickly reminded him of how improper it was for the two of them to be sharing quarters at night while out of wedlock and how easily that could be remedied. The Captain's disapproval stopped, or at least was silenced.

She has had one unfortunate side effect since speaking with Niko, she has been plagued with disturbing nightmares that he habitually appears in. It is always the same dream. She is a small child on a rapidly sinking ship. There are people running for their lives, screaming so loudly that her ears hurt. She is unable to move and no one seems to notice her lying helplessly in a dark corner. From the shadows an older boy appears. At first she is frightened by him, for he is gravely injured and the blood trickles down his body onto the floor. He looks at her and tells her that everything will be alright. She turns around at the feeling of a presence; a dark shadow looms over her. She tries to scream, but the dryness of her throat will not allow the sound to escape. Then Niko appears, picks her up and carries her away.

The dream ends as it has every night prior, she is forced awake, soaked in a cold sweat and gasping for air.

"Ye had that nightmare again?" Davy's sleep-filled voice floats through the darkness of the room. He has become accustomed to being forced from his sleep due to her nightmares.

"It won't go away." She begins to sob when his hand reaches out and finds her shoulder in the night.

"Are ye ever going to talk about it?"

She had been keeping the dream to herself, fearing Davy's reaction in finding out that it is Niko coming to her rescue and not him. But finally, she relents and tells him everything. His fingers tense and tighten slightly at the mention of the coxswain.

"Why would he be the one saving ye?" His voice is a mixture of frustration and sarcasm.

"That's what I don't know. Why isn't it you? I'd give anything to have one night of rest without being tortured by this dream."

Davy pulls her body close to his in an attempt to comfort her. "Close your eyes, it was only a dream."

* * *

><p>"Ye wanted to see me, Lil?"<p>

Liliana smiles to see her friend appear in the doorway. "Yes, come in. Close the door please."

He does as he is commanded, though slightly worried about the Captain's reaction if he were to stumble upon this scene, no matter how innocent it is.

"I had that dream again last night."

"The one with me in it?" He sits on the bed where Liliana has some of her books spread out. He picks one up and flips through it casually.

"Yes. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why you are my savior."

He looks up from the pages, "Strange." He goes back to the book; a devilish grin forms as he examines it. "Ye have to stop dreaming about me, ye know, ye can't have me."

She laughs at his typical boldness. "Don't flatter yourself, coxswain, it was a nightmare and not the sort of dream you may be thinking of!"

He looks up at her, "Oh." He smiles, "I'm haunting ye then? Bah, how can ye read this rubbish?" He puts the book down and replaces it with her journal. He waves it at her for her approval.

"Go ahead. There's nothing in it besides notes on my seashells and a few drawings."

He opens the cover. "A few? Ye have an entire gallery devoted to the Cap'n in here." He scoffs. "There are pages missing. Have a bad day?"

"No. They were missing when I woke up here. And I find the Captain interesting to draw, it's quite fun actually."

He laughs. "You're cracked." He examines some of the scientific writing on another page, "how do you pronounce these words?"

"Those are specific epithets, the scientific names for the shells that I've identified." She pauses, "And you're the cracked one."

He laughs, "You have no idea." Suddenly, the smile is erased from his face. He looks over at her, "Lil? What is this?" He pulls out a small velvet pouch with a family crest embroidery.

"That? It was in my journal when I woke up."

He opens the pouch to pour out its contents, an engraved piece of metal. He holds it in his hand, examining it closely. "Where did you get this?"

"I told you, I had it with me when I woke up. I don't even know what it is."

He stands and walks over to her, "Lil, this is my family crest." He takes her arms in his hands, "Where did you get this?"

"I don't know, I…" She closes her eyes as her knees go weak. She can feel herself being transported back to her childhood. The boat is sinking; people are running in terror for the nearest longboat. Bodies are strewn over the deck. She cannot find her parents, her brother is missing. Terror floods into her body, she cannot move as she is pinned down by a heavy beam. The boy in her dreams is there; he appears dead. No not dead, still breathing somehow. Blood is pooling around his body. His blue eyes open and remain fixed on her until everything goes black, the same blue eyes that gaze upon her now with concern.

Her legs give way and Niko catches her in his arms before she falls. He swears when he realizes that his spines have penetrated the tender skin on her arms. Carefully he pulls her away and places her on the bed. "Lil? Are ye alright?"

"I remember…" She whispers softly as her eyes open. She stares blankly at the ceiling before looking over at the man next to her. "Niko. You are the boy, the boy in my dream. That crest is mine; you gave it to me before the wreck. "

"What?"

"The boy, Niko. My brother."

He realizes what she is trying to say but cannot comprehend it, "no Lil, my family died."

She takes the crest from his hands and holds it out to show him, "then how did I get this? You gave it to me because I always wanted it. We were leaving for the Americas and I was afraid. You gave it to me to make me feel better."

Niko begins to shudder with the realization, "I … remember. Your birth name was Lillian Snow, I thought ye died that day."

A tear falls down Liliana's cheek, her hand instinctively presses to his cheek. She then sees the blood running down her arms. "My brother and I cannot even hug you…"

The door flies open and Niko's body goes rigid, "OH HELL!"

Liliana looks up to see Davy standing there, enraged. How this must look, a crewman lying above her on their bed! "Davy! No, wait!"

Niko springs off the bed and darts to the farthest corner of the room, hoping he can escape faster than Jones can travel.

"Davy, look at me!" Liliana lurches forward and throws herself upon him. She instantly regrets asking him to do this; he now glares down at her with intense rage and hatred. "Davy…he's my brother!"

"What?" Jones spits with anger.

She turns to Niko and smiles, "He's my brother. You saved him that day. My dream, it is my memory coming back."

"How do ye know this?"

"I remember." She states firmly. She walks over to Niko, who is still prepared to take flight.

Frustrated, Davy removes his hat and runs his hand over his head after many moments of trying to remember the day he press-ganged Koleniko. "Are ye sure?"

"She has my family crest, Sir." Niko mumbles while looking past his superior to the girl next to him.

"I see it now. Even through the curse, I remember his face." Liliana smiles sweetly at her long lost sibling.

Now Jones remembers that day vividly. He recalls finding the young boy close to death but too young to die. Off in the corner, a small girl, useless to him, but not close enough to death to send to the locker. He clears his throat and then walks away from them, turning his back on the scene. "What else do ye remember?"

Liliana scans her mind, "nothing else."

Jones feels himself shudder. Her memory is returning faster now, soon she will recall her past and want to leave. There will be no stopping her then. How could he stop her? He has nothing to offer her. With her medallion, she can have what her heart desires; including freedom from this wretched after life where he is eternally ensnared. The day she appeared before him as a grown woman, he questioned if it were real. He had set the tiny girl adrift, hoping someone would rescue her, only to drift back to him two decades later. She was no longer an innocent child, but a woman who once again needed his rescue. Knowing the risks, he still took her on board. And now those risks are coming to fruition. She recognizes her brother through the curse. Still capable of deep emotion, Niko can give her the love she craves. She will have no need for him now.

He looks over at the young pair who now examine each other fondly. Feeling beaten by his own choices from the past, he sighs, "I'll leave ye two to reacquaint."


	28. Chapter 28

_Author's Note: Sorry for all the updates today. I wanted to get all these chapters loaded as they've been sitting on my computer for over a year. From this chapter on, everything will be brand new. I do not know when the next chapter will be written, but I will do my best to get one started soon. _

_Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews :D_

* * *

><p>Covered in sticky, jagged scales, Liliana's skin is now crawling due to her morning of filleting cod. The pungent flesh is to be dried and salted as to preserve it for many meals ahead. Her hands carry the strong stench of fish guts and her fingers are slimy and pruned. This happens to be her least favorite of tasks, but with an abundance of fish and a lack of everything else, she makes due knowing that she herself will rely on her laborious efforts in the near future.<p>

Many months have passed now since she found herself trapped aboard the _Dutchman_. The vast majority of her memory continues to elude her. The only real joy she has in life is having her brother by her side. Since discovering this long lost secret, Niko has become very protective of her. All of this, of course, is a great source of vexation for the Captain. He had not realized what a boost it was to his ego to have the helpless girl come running when in need. Now she runs to her flesh and blood. Perhaps she trusts Niko more. Perhaps she should.

The Captain watches from the helm as the girl makes her way across the deck. The look of pure disgust upon her face causes a grin to tug at the corners of his mouth. He can tell she is miserable for having fish scales caked to her porcelain skin.

"Madame, it appears that ye have been diligently molesting one of my crewmen!" Jones calls out for the entire world to hear. The repugnant look she sends him when the crew erupts in laughter is enough to make his stagnant blood flow. How he loves to torment her.

No longer appalled by his bawdiness, she continues walking with her head held high. "You, sir, may enjoy smelling like a fish, but I certainly do not!"

She smiles at the fading sound of his hearty laughter as she travels below deck. Now squinting in the darkness, a random ray of light trickles past the rotting wood of the hull and into a corner room where a large tub lay unused and abandoned. Despite the barnacles, it would be perfect to suit her needs. Calling to Niko for assistance, she directs him to place the tub in her personal quarters where she could have the privacy of a long, hot bath. While he does this, she begins putting pots of salt water onto the stove. Fresh water is strictly designated for drinking and cooking only, she will have to make do with her seawater bath.

After several trips to and from the galley with heavy, boiling pots of water, she finally had enough water to sink her aching body into. Grabbing some fragrant cooking herbs and dried flowers she had collected from their recent visit to Isla Cruces, along with the glycerin soap she had made a few weeks prior, she could feel herself becoming excited by the idea of simply relaxing.

As her tired and dirty body slides into the steaming bath, she moans out loud with pleasure. "I'm never leaving this tub. Ever! I'm going to sit here and melt." Sinking down below the surface, her tangled hair soaks up the water. As she breaches the surface, the door opens.

"Go away. No stinky fish men allowed." She yells with eyes closed tight, hoping to avoid her unfortunate reality for a few more moments. Without laying eyes upon him, she knows who it is so she makes no effort to cover herself.

"Stinky?"

One eye opens to carefully examine her lover standing before her. "I've come to realize that you seem to enjoy stumbling upon my being nude."

"'Tis a talent." He shrugs and laughs as he removes his coat. He walks over to the tub and takes a seat on a nearby chair; carefully examining what little is exposed from the bubbles that cling to her body. The air in the room is humid and smells of flowers and fresh grass. "I was beginning to think ye had gone mad, love…collecting seawater?"

"Yes, I was suddenly terrified we'd run out." Her eye closes. "We are eternally surrounded by it now, but you wait…"

With no sarcastic response, she reopens her eyes to see him surveying the white froth with a disappointed frown upon his face. "Poor Davy, everything is hidden."

"Damn bubbles." He mumbles. "So ye think I smell do ye?" He quickly changes the subject to something less arousing.

"No. Not all the time. For the most, you have a very manly aroma that is quite attractive. Although sometimes you and the crew walk by me and you smell like pigs that have been wallowing in manure. You should consider doing this on those days."

"And smell like flowers? I'd prefer the manure." He snorts sarcastically. "Besides, I don't need to bath. I let the rain wash me."

"Oh yes! And it works so well, getting into every little crack and crevice. I'm sorry, but my sense of personal hygiene cannot be ignored…unlike you seem to be able to do. Honestly, when was the last time your flesh met soap?"

He watches as her eyes close again before silently placing his hand into the water.

"Get out of there…" Liliana states flatly when she feels the tentacled finger approach her thigh.

He does as she commands. "Maybe I could grow accustomed to this whole bathing idea. Think there is enough room for me in there?"

"No..."

"Well, who said I wanted in there because of the water? I have no real interest in the bathing part."

Liliana shifts to find a more comfortable position. Seeing the frown on his face, she lifts the leg closest to him out of the tub, exposing her lower thigh. Droplets of water and bubbles glisten in the candlelight as they roll down her creamy skin.

"Tawdry tease." He mumbles.

"Aren't you supposed to be out on deck?"

"And miss this?" He blows at the bubbles that are covering her breasts. He frowns when they fail to move out of the way.

"There's nothing subtle to your approach is there Davy Jones?"

"Why leave ye guessing, Liliana Jones?"

She turns to look at him with amazement. "Jones? My last name is Snow, as we recently found out."

"Jones sounds better, more accurate considering our circumstances."

She continues to gaze at him, astounded. "What are you trying to say? That you see me as your wife?"

His response is a simple shrug.

"I'm afraid I will need more confirmation than that, darling."

Jones smiles slightly and looks away before continuing. "I hurt ye, didn't I? The other day on the island?"

Liliana thinks back to how her heart ached when she realized the gravity of the decisions he made before meeting her, of how these choices have forever locked her out of his heart. "Perhaps. I suppose it forced me to see the reality of our situation."

"Which is?"

"That you will never love me."

"It does not mean I do not care for ye." He watches as she begins to slide the bar of soap down her forearm, leaving tantalizing bubbles behind its travels. "It's not like I want to see ye come to harm. Ye are like a flea that I've grown accustomed to having nibble on my backside."

"And with that comment you completely ruin it for me." Liliana moans in disappointment. For a moment there, she allowed herself to believe that he may love her someday.

"What I'm trying to say is that ye annoy me, but I like it."

Liliana continues running the soap along her arm. "No better, Jones."

"Dammit!" Jones grows frustrated with her feminine sensitivities. "The question is…is it enough for ye? To be with me even though I cannot give ye what ye want?"

Becoming bothered by his presence when all she wanted was solitude, she turns to face him. "So much has happened to me in the last few days, I barely know if I am coming or going. What I do know is that I need some time to think, which is why I came in here."

"But I need to know now…"

"Why…can't this wait?"

"No…!"

Her temper being sparked now, she turns her back to him in annoyance. "Well it will have to wait. Because I simply do not know how I feel about you or us right now. But you of all people should have a fair understanding of what it feels like to love someone and not have it reciprocated."

Her words sting, surprisingly. "Would ye leave?"

She lets out an exasperated laugh. "My love, where would I go? I have nowhere to go but the locker, as you may recall. Even with the amulet. And seeing since I am rather fond of living, I shall remain here, unloved, as your mistress."

"Do not refer to yourself as such; it is a title beneath ye."

"Then how shall I define myself? Cabin wench? Galley girl? As much as I would love to refer to myself as Mrs. Jones, I do not see how that title would fit."

"I do."

Turning to face him, she examines him carefully. "Please inform me as to how."

"Ye are still here aren't ye? Ye stay despite how I treat ye sometimes. Ye love me without getting it back. I've done nothing to earn your love and yet ye still provide it. If that does not speak of devotion that only a wife could have, I'm not sure what does."

She reaches forward and cups her hand to his cheek. His eyes close upon contact, enjoying the precious seconds where he can absorb the warmth from her heated skin. "Some would refer to it as madness, but yes, I see it as devotion.

He snorts and pulls away from her hand. "Fine, if ye will not take this conversation seriously then I am leaving." He stands and storms toward the exit.

"Be a dear and close the door behind you." Liliana states flatly and is then greeted with a loud slamming of the door that causes ripples to vibrate through her bath water.

* * *

><p>She remained in her sanctuary until the water was cold. Once she began to shiver, she forced her body out, noticing how heavy it seemed.<p>

Placing her hair in a loose bun, she dressed herself and headed out to find her lover. All she wanted was a few moments of peace and tranquility, and he ruined that for her. But upon reflecting, she was harsh with him, even if it is normally how he treats her and is deserving of it being reciprocated. But alas, she does indeed love him and cannot harm him in any way. If only she understood why.

When he is nowhere to be found, she heads to his quarters. Unlike her partner, she knocks and waits for him to call. She finds him plotting out a course on a ragged, old map that has seen better days.

"Such a shame I do not find you in the same state you like to find me in." She teases, hoping to discover his mood quickly.

He looks up at her with one eyebrow raised. "I'm not prone to nudity." He states flatly. "Some of us have a sense of propriety."

She can sense the chill in his voice. "Or some of us are far too uptight to realize that I'm trying to apologize."

"Why bother? I most likely deserve it." He turns back to the map.

Still feeling jovial – as this is the most effective way to break down his barriers - she walks over and takes a seat next to him on the bench. "Perhaps, you are rather hard on me at times. If I am the flea then you must be the hand that swats me."

Looking from the corner of his eye, he smoothly asks the same question that went unanswered. "Would ye leave me?"

"Look at me." She waits patiently until he does as he is told. "Even if I could, I would not. I know you may never trust me, and maybe someday I will prove this to you, I am not going away." She leans in closer to his cold body. "I promise."

Jones reaches behind her head to release her hair. The damp auburn locks fall onto her shoulders. "Just like the day I found ye."

"Like a drowned rat?" She jests.

Not amused by her comment, he continues to look down at her, his eyes suddenly warm. "No."

"What then?"

"Beautiful."

Liliana leans in and rests her head on his shoulders, ignoring the scratching barnacles and corals beneath her cheek. "You are the one who is beautiful."

Jones lets out a loud, sarcastic laugh. "Ye truly have gone mad."

"No," she states softly as she feels the weight of his crustacean arm go around her body. "I may not see what the world sees, Davy, but that is only because you have shown me great benevolence. I'm not sure why that is, but please don't stop."

"I have no plans on treating ye like the crew, or the rest of the world for that matter."

Liliana straightens and pulls herself closer to his body. "And that's the reason why I love you. For some unknown reason, I am placed above all others." She takes his weathered hand and presses her lips to his chilled flesh. "Do you know what I thought of you the first time we met?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"I saw a man with the most incredible blue eyes. I saw a soul that was damaged when it used to be so generous and kind. I saw a man that must be so lonely and afraid," she pauses to reflect, "so broken, and yet could still see the exact same qualities in an unknown, unconscious woman. Beneath all this chaos is a beautiful man."

He remains silent for what seems like hours. He appears to soaking up her words, absorbing them into his consciousness. "Ye saw all that?" He smiles when she nods. "Ye are the only person who cares for me." He pauses with the realization. "Thank ye."

She leans over and kisses his cheek. "Thank you for letting me in."


	29. Chapter 29

_Brand new chapter!_

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><p>"Good morning."<p>

Liliana opens her heavy eyelids to the sound of her lover's hushed voice. His sapphire eyes gaze upon her affectionately as his hand traces across her cheek. She had spent the night enveloped in his arms, cradled in his embrace. Their room remains bathed in last night's darkness, with only a hint of dawn entering through an open window.

She allows a pleasured sigh to escape her lungs. "Good morning."

"Do ye recall what day it is?"

She gently shakes her head. A tentacle breaks from his beard and swirls itself around her wrist. It's presence is welcomed and comforting.

"It was one year ago to this day that I found ye."

Liliana's eyes lose all trace of sleep with this realization. One year prior, her entire life changed. One year since she lost her memories and her freedom. Then something happened that changed her course in life. She is unable to recall this former time; all she knows is Jones and the _Dutchman_.

Jones' smile disappears. "Try not to look so happy, love."

"I'm sorry. I had not realized how much time has passed. It is a shock, I must say." She leans in to kiss his lips, hoping to hide her true feelings from him. As much as she loves him, living on his ship has been nothing short of a nightmare. Her once elegant form has been reduced to wearing men's garbs. Her feminine, porcelain skin is scarred and deeply tanned. Her small fingers have become rough. Nails that were once long have now broken off, their polished white trim now blackened with dirt. When he found her, she smelled of rose water. Now she smells of the sea and manual labor. Her elaborate tresses have been replaced with a matted, messy bun. Between being harassed and tortured by the hateful crew, having her heart trampled upon by this perplexing man and having no choice but to look after every lost soul on board, she has lost any trace of who she was. Or at least, who she thought she was.

"Ye don't look so well…" Jones eyes her suspiciously.

With his statement, she realizes how incredibly nauseated she is. "I don't feel so well."

Jones smirks, "it makes ye physically ill knowing ye've been here with me all this time?"

* * *

><p>She wipes the water from her eyes as she walks out on deck. She tries to swallow the sour taste from her mouth but is unable to do so. Around her, life goes on. The bell has tolled and crew changes duties as they have every day for centuries. The morning air remains cool as the sun is still struggling to break free from the horizon. Liliana places an overcoat around her shoulders to stave off the cold, but she continues to shiver.<p>

"Still green around the gills, I see." Jones walks over to look down at her with curiosity.

Her hand instinctively reaches up to wipe her mouth. "Feeling a bit better now that I've expelled last night's meal."

"Do ye need time to recuperate? I can wait to break my fast."

She looks up at her superior and smiles at his consideration. Normally she would not be granted such kindness. "Thank you, but I think I will be fine."

"Good, I'm famished." He pauses to examine her further. "Are ye sure ye are well? I didn't mean to distress ye this morn, if that is the case. It may not be a joyous occasion for ye, but I think it be remarkable ye have lasted this long."

"Yes, I am amazed myself that I have not gone completely mad. Or maybe I have and this is all a dream. You're not really here, trying to fit your entire foot into your mouth." She laughs at his now frowning face. His verbal blunders have become charming to her, even if they are often in her own expense. "I think what you meant to say is that you enjoy my company and couldn't do without it."

"That's what I said."

"Oh, so I am mad _and_ deaf now?"

"Apparently." His heavy shoulders collapse into a sarcastic shrug. "Perchance ye will accompany me during my meal?"

"I didn't realize you had finished snacking on your foot." She laughs as he tries to playfully swat the back of her head and misses. "I will feed everyone and, yes, I shall join you."

* * *

><p>A recent harvest of a cargo ship destined for the Americas had blessed Liliana with many new and wonderful ingredients. For the first time since she became head of the galley, she had something other than the bare necessities. This morning, she proudly serves the Captain a large, steaming bowl of salmagundi, followed by honey cake, aged cheese and a tankard overflowing with bumbo.<p>

"Ye've outdone yourself this time, love." Jones says between spoonfuls of the salty soup and bites off the small block of tart cheese. He is savoring every contrasting flavor with every mouthful.

"I must have, for I believe I fed every soul on board this morn." Liliana states with a beaming smile.

Jones takes a long drink from the tankard and then turns his attention back to the girl. "Ye do not see it yet, do ye?"

"See what?" She looks up from her bowl to see him looking her over.

A casual smile smears across his face. "I see it now. 'Tis the reason for your weak constitution these past few days." He reaches over and places his hand on her stomach. "Ye have the beginnings of life in ye."

Liliana stops a chunk of meat from falling back into her throat. She is forced to spit it back out when she starts coughing.

"Very attractive, love." Jones laughs and continues eating.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Aye? Ye didn't hear me the first time?"

Liliana remains silent, stunned, unable to form the countless thoughts that race through her head.

"Ye are with child."

"How? How do you know this?"

Jones is forced from his honey cake. "Hmm? Ye don't know _how_?" He sends her a quizzical grin.

"I know _how_, well maybe not, I thought we were undead. How could we create life?" Her hand reaches down to cover her belly, questioning if this is real or some cruel joke he is playing on her.

"To hell if I know." He laughs tersely. "What's done is done. Mayhap it's that bobble around your neck?"

"How can you…"

"I see it. I see life as light. When a ship is wrecked and there are survivors, I see the light. When I do not see it, I know there are no souls." He pauses to re-examine her abdomen. "Yes, there is light there."

Liliana suddenly finds herself struggling with conflicting emotions. She wants to laugh and yet cry. Her heart is overjoyed and yet she is frightened. She loves this man and the idea of carrying his child feels like a blessing - even though he seems less than enthusiastic. But to bring an innocent child into this world, to forever enslave it aboard the _Dutchman_ seems cruel.

"Now, don't ye become a watering pot." He grumbles when he sees the tears forming on her eyelids.

"I'm not sure if this is a good thing." She sniffles and wipes away the tears.

"No? Well, it has proven to me that I am capable of something else I thought was impossible. The first was the actuality that I could still have relations at all…and now this." He turns back to his meal. "I think it is good for that reason alone."

Stunned even further by his nonchalance, Liliana's jaw hangs loosely. "I…we are talking about a child here! One that you and I created. Together!" She suddenly finds it necessary to support her head in her hand. "What am I going to do?"

"Give birth to it." He is suddenly jolted by the force of her hand slapping his arm, causing him to miss the cheese that was being directed toward his empty mouth. "What?"

"I cannot believe you are being so cold and indifferent to this!"

Jones turn to her now, frustrated at his inability to finish eating in peace. "Would ye expect anything else from me?"

"YES!"

"Forgive me then, when I say that this terrifies the piss out of me! I have no idea how to raise a child! I don't even think I can hold one!" He snaps his crustacean tips together. "Sorry Junior, I'd like to love ye, but I cannot! And don't mind the crew; they're just trying to eat ye!"

"You are not helping…" Liliana mumbles in a distraught tone.

Jones squeezes the bridge between his eyes with his fingers. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to handle this." He reaches over to pull her close, hoping his physical contact is more reassuring than his words. "Do not fret. We'll figure something out."


	30. Chapter 30

"Ye have bad humors."

Liliana looks up from her nauseated daze to see Jones walking towards her with a small jar. For the last fortnight, the girl has been unable to keep food inside her body; nothing can get past her lips. The rocking motion of the ship combined with the foul smells emitted from the sweaty crew has forced her below deck in a vain attempt to stop her innards from heaving.

Her joy has been short-lived. Since discovering her condition, she has spent most of her days hanging over the rails. Jones watches helplessly as she rapidly loses weight before his eyes, her continual vomiting no longer repulses him for he is too worried about her now. He along with the crew have returned to eating raw fish due to her inability to withstand anything on deck. This is not what concerns him, however-though he'd never tell her- the child within her will never grow without nourishment.

She swallows hard. With nothing in her stomach, the heaving results in empty pain. "What is that?" She points weakly at the jar in his hand.

"Ye never mind. Just drink it."

Liliana takes the jar and cautiously smells it. Her nose is greeted with a pungent fragrance. She instantly pulls away, recognizing the concoction. "No, not holy bitters. Too strong…"

"How else are we to balance ye so that ye will keep food inside where it belongs?"

Liliana's stomach turns over. "This will only make it worse!"

"Well, when ye swallow it, at least there will be something in your stomach to evacuate." Jones shrugs as he takes a seat next to her on the mattress. "Ye must eat, Lily. If not for yourself, for the child."

She looks up from the foul cathartic to see the concern in his eyes. He has not spoken of the pregnancy, let alone showed any emotion toward their unborn child's well being. Taking a deep breath she tosses the bitter fluid into her mouth and swallows quickly. She yells allowed as the acrid aroma perforates and burns her nostrils.

"That is absolutely horrid!" She rolls her tongue around in her mouth, trying to remove the bitter slime.

Jones laughs at her discomfort. "Ye will thank me when ye stop evacuating."

* * *

><p>Hours pass and Liliana's state begins to improve. As the sun begins to set, Jones retires for the night and is pleasantly surprised to see her skin has taken on a brighter tone.<p>

"There, see? Good for what ails ye." He smiles at her as he runs his fingers through her hair. They both try to ignore when they become snared in her tangles.

"I do feel improved. But now my back hurts." She smiles weakly, embarrassed that she has not been able to take care of herself.

"That's from all the heaving!" Jones snorts. "Every time I turned around ye were hanging over the side."

She catches the concerned look upon his face once more. "Is something the matter?"

Jones' eyes examine her abdomen, which appears sunken in. He finds himself disappointed by this in knowing a small bump should be present now. "Ye had best eat. Ye are frail. I had been worried as to how we would conceal your state, but if ye don't eat, we won't have to." He looks down at her again. "The light is weak."

Liliana's hand protectively runs over her flat stomach. "I will on the morrow. I do not want to push my luck."

* * *

><p>She slept soundly for the first time in many days. With his arm protectively wrapped around her, she allowed her exhausted body to replenish.<p>

In the darkness, she is jolted awake. A sharp pain in her lower abdomen feels like a hot knife to her womb. The throbbing causes her to curl over, and she notices the moist heat between her legs. She reaches down, and through the darkness she can see the crimson fluid on her finger tips.

Breaking free from his grasp, she stumbles onto the floor. She clutches her stomach, the pain tearing through her fragile body. His eyes open to the terror on her face. They stare at each other without words spoken, knowing that they are witnessing the death of their child.

Instinctively, he rushes to her side. There is nothing he can do now. All he can do is watch this woman as she sobs and groans in agony. The blood begins to pool around them on the floor. And as suddenly as it began, the pain dissolves. Liliana collapses onto the floor, too weak to remain on her knees any longer.

Jones remains frozen in place. His eyes are suddenly drawn to a dark spot on the floor, a large clot of blood amongst the fabric of her nightshift. The air is forced from his lungs with the realization. "It's gone." He mumbles breathlessly as he looks to her womb. "The light is gone."

* * *

><p>She stares blankly now, with no tears left to cry. She had screamed at him for telling her that their child was gone. When he reached for her, she struck him with her fists. Holding her firmly, he held her there for what seemed like hours, as her body quaked while she sobbed.<p>

Now they stand alone on the balcony on the stern of the ship. Any traces of their child are tossed overboard, burying what hopes and dreams she had at sea.

"This is my fault." Jones states morosely as they watch the fabric disappear in the wake of the _Dutchman_. "I shouldn't have given ye that cathartic." The skin on his hand is now taut from the dried blood of last night.

Suddenly the tears find their way back to her eyelids. "No. This is not your fault. It is mine." She turns away from him and returns to the spot on the floor where her fleeting joy ended. Now she will have to scrub her own blood from this floor. "I killed it." The tears escape her eyes. "I could not eat. I killed it."

Jones watches as she turns away in disgust and heads for the door. He does not call after her for he has no words to say. He looks back out to the water, not knowing how they will ever recover from this.

Liliana blindly made her way down to the darkest depths of the ship. If she had passed anyone, she would not have known. She reaches for a small pouch hidden behind an old barrel of gunpowder. She reaches in and pulls out the cross. She wipes her tear-stained face and stares down at it with despair.

"This is because I love _him_. All this time I thought You put me here to help him." She pauses to look up to the heavens, but only sees the damp, dismal ceiling above her head. Her burning tears flow back to kiss her ears and mingle with her hair. "But I was wrong. I'm not sure what I have done for You to forsake me. Have You forsaken me for loving the devil?"

Her words taste sour in her mouth. "This child was to be a blessing in my life. Someone I could love, someone I could cherish and protect. I know he would have done the same. Why would You take this away from us? Are his sins so great that you must punish him, along with me now? He is not the monster he has become. He is not a lost cause."

Her ears receive no answer. Her frail body gives in to her exhaustion and collapses to the floor. Clutching the cross desperately between her fingers, she prays for a miracle to save them both.


	31. Chapter 31

Unable to cope with the emptiness in her body, Liliana finds herself motionless in the protective shade of the balcony. The unforgiving heat of the day scorches the world around her, but with her increasing numbness, she fails to notice.

Playfully, she had once pondered what it must feel like to have a little child fluttering around inside of her. Now her womb feels like an empty cavern, stripped of what joy it may have carried. She finds herself unable to move, unable to comprehend anything other than her crippling loss. Her bloodshot eyes have since dried up after countless days of sobbing. Her already weakened body has begun to waste away for she cannot recognize her need to eat.

Not one word has she spoken since she woke up, surprised to find herself safely tucked away in bed. Her last memory was of her burning tears streaming down to the cold, desolate floor. Jones must have found her there. Since then, her lover's voice has been silent. The ship runs eerily quiet without his voice carrying proudly over the daily clamor. Whenever he enters the room, his eyes fill with sorrow upon viewing her in her current state. She can see now that this is as much a loss for him as it is for her.

"This is my fault."

His voice floats from behind, causing her to jump. She turns to see him standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. "This is not your fault." She mumbles and places her face back into her knees. Her curled position seems to shield her from the pain – or perhaps hold her in it. She finds herself becoming steadfast friends with her misery.

"This is punishment! For everything I've done." He steps forward and stands over her. He finds the urge to pick her up and embrace her overwhelming, but fights it off knowing she will only push him away. If by holding her it would somehow take their pain away, he would never let her go.

Liliana lifts her flushed face from its protective hole. Loose strands of hair have become glued to her damp skin. "How are you certain that it is not my doing? Perhaps I was a malevolent person in my past and this is my penance."

Jones sinks to her side. "Not ye...ye could do no wrong."

"You don't know that."

"It is not a possibility. It's not fathomable." He reaches over and runs his fingers through her matted hair. He examines her protruding shoulder blades through the fabric of her shirt. "Please eat."

He has since stumbled upon an emotion that he had lost for centuries, dreadful worry. It tortures him as well as annoys him all at the same time. When she ignores his request to only place her head back into its hiding place, his stomach sinks. The mighty captain has found himself begging for a young girl to live again. What he wouldn't give to see her smile again. Perhaps he needs it more than she. This girl has become his foundation while also being his soft place to fall. Now they are both rendered helpless and lost by the death of someone they never even met.

Jones has spent every night awake, verbally assaulting himself over this loss. If he could have made the illness go away sooner, if only he could have forced her to eat, she would still be with child and she would still be smiling up at him. The pain of losing the child is raw, but seeing the girl reduced to this is pure torture.

He reaches over and pulls her towards his body. She resists slightly, moaning like a scolded child, but quickly melts into his arms. "I need ye to be strong, Lily. I cannot do this without ye."

"You survived all this time before me."

"No. I existed, I did not live." He presses his lips to the crown of her head.

"You'd go on without me."

Jones pulls back slightly, finding himself disturbed by her comment. "Do not talk in such a manner." He pulls her frail body in again, noticing her protruding ribs and vertebrae under his hand. "Please, ye must recover from this. I am lost without ye by my side."

"You do not understand." She pulls away, frowning in disgust. "How am I to go on? This child was to be my light in the darkness. Finally, someone would love me!"

Jones feels a stabbing pain where his heart should be. He is unsure if that comment was made to wound him or if this is just blind rage and he is an innocent casualty.

She leaves the safety of his arms and curls into a ball on the floor. "Please, Davy. Leave me be."

* * *

><p>Standing alone in the pouring rain, Jones stares up at the night sky as lightning dances between the clouds overhead. The cool water runs down his face, but fails to wash away the agony he somehow feels.<p>

He had a conversation with someone he hasn't spoken to in centuries – or at least in a civil manner. Many curses and condemnations have been sent skyward since the girl came aboard, but this time he finds himself pleading with his enemy.

He closes his tired eyes...and prays. _Do what ye want with me. I have done nothing to exonerate myself. But do not punish the girl for being devoted to me. She has done no wrong, other than loving me. I know she is still loyal to Ye, I found her with that cross. My sins should not condemn her. I do not deserve assuagement, but she does not deserve such sorrow. I can take it, give it all to me!_

A light _clink _distracts him from his conversation. He opens his eyes as lightning flashes. A small flicker of light catches his eyes and he recognizes the amulet lying on the deck. A jolt of fear runs through him, he lifts his eyes to see her standing there on the rails. Her night shift violently rustles in the wind, her loose hair a torrent of auburn. She appears an apparition of herself, barely even there.

"LIL!" He lurches forward as she lets go.

In the darkness, he finds her hand and stops her fall. Another flash of lightning illuminates her face, her eyes filled with sorrow as she stares up at him with soulless eyes. "Let me go." She mouths to him breathlessly.

Instantly, something of unknown origin begins to burn within Jones and he yells down to her. "NO! I will not let ye go!" With no effort, he lifts her tiny body over the side of the ship and grasps her protectively in his arms. He sinks to the deck as she remains motionless. He grabs her shoulders and shakes her. "What the hell are ye thinking? Ye cannot leave me!"

Tears find their way to her eyelids. "I can't do this anymore! Please let me go, Davy! Please!"

His throat begins to burn as he finds himself wanting to squeeze the life out of her, not because of rage but for never wanting to let her go. "I cannot let ye go!"

"WHY?" She shrieks in his face.

"Because I love ye!"

A loud clap of thunder is quickly followed by a bright flicker of lightning. They stare at each other for what feels like eternity.

Liliana catches her breath. "What?"

Jones finds himself shocked at the words he just spoke. He searches his inner core and finds that these words are the truth. Spending an eternity without this girl after everything they have been through would be agony that he could not withstand. He notices her searching his eyes for an answer. He nods, "I love ye."

"But...that's not possible."

"And yet, here we are." He sends her a weak smile.

She gasps slightly. Jones finds himself overwhelmed with relief when she smiles back at him for the first time in weeks. She reaches out to wipe the rain off his face, "I have dreamt of this moment for so long. All I have ever wanted was for you to love me." She envelopes herself around his body.

For the first time in centuries, Jones feels a warmth within his body that is pure and inviting. He holds her there, unwilling to let her go, before he finally looks towards the heavens.

_Thank ye_.


	32. Chapter 32

Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updates in this story. Personal life got in the way. I also want to plan this story out carefully now that I am hitting a section where things will shift dramatically from the old story.

* * *

><p>"I have a splinter."<p>

Jones turns from the helm, slightly annoyed to have his nautical thoughts interrupted by a complaint. He looks down at the girl whose lip seems to hang in a frustrated pout. Reaching for her hand, he grabs the violated finger and examines it closely. "Totty-headed woman, ye'll survive."

Liliana watches as he feigns annoyance, throwing her hand away as if it disgusts him. "But it hurts." Lacking her long, elegant nails, her dull fingertips fail to grasp the piece of wood that has burrowed its way into her flesh.

"No one has ever expired from a splinter wound." He examines her as she takes a seat next to him on the deck. "Stop picking at it! Ye'll make it worse doing that."

"I can't leave it in there." She flinches when the splinter moves in farther under her own doing. She catches the sarcasm from his first comment. "You don't know that! And who knows, I may be the first!"

"I'm not so fortunate!"

"Now, now!" Lil wags her index finger back and forth. "You cannot get away with that anymore. After all, you do love me." She returns to examining her finger.

"Bah!" Jones turns his back to her. At first, he had felt as though the words had escaped his lips in a moment of chaotic emotion and nothing more. Maybe he told her that to keep her from ending her life. No, the panic that boiled within his soul, seeing her there on the rails that day, was a symptom of something stronger. Upon reflection he knew the words were true. He loved her. For days, he fought for an explanation. Finding none, he finally accepted what he has been fighting off for months now. Jones turns back to the sound of her yelping in pain.

"How am I supposed to be your guardian if I have to protect ye from yourself?" Bending down, he examines her skin in the bright sunlight. Now calloused and rough from her time spent on this ship, he secretly wishes he could have enjoyed their softness before the manual labor ruined them.

"Are you going to amputate?" She laughs at his stern expression.

"For a splinter?"

"So serious." She reaches up with her free hand and cups his cheek.

"Do ye want it out or not?" He growls.

"Yes."

Jones reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an ancient looking gulley. "Hold still." His cephalopod finger coils tightly around her wrist, holding her in place when she recoils from the sight.

"Wait! No!" She tries to free herself from his grasp. Suction cups glue themselves to her skin and remain firmly attached.

"Oh stop it, Lil!" He bellows.

"Don't use the knife!"

"How else do ye want me to get it out?"

She continues to squirm as his grasp tightens further. Her fingers are now turning white from the lack of blood. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Stay still, lest ye want the blade to miss and hit something vital!" Jones pauses and takes a deep breath. As always, the forceful approach does not work on this girl. "See here, woman, we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. Now which way do ye choose?"

Liliana sighs and relents. Her fingers instantly tingle when his grip loosens and the blood flows back to their tips. She covers her eyes with her free hand when she sees him preparing to cut into her flesh. A few seconds pass. "Did you do it?"

He rolls his eyes, "How can I when ye are wincing and whining like this? Ye need to stay put!"

"Do it quick!"

Jones snickers. "That's not what ye said last night."

"Jones! Shut it!" She yells from behind her closed eyes. "Oww!" She can feel the weight of his crustacean claw suddenly clamping down on her wrist when she tries to retreat from the knife blade.

"That didn't hurt."

"Do not tell me what I did or did not feel!" Her eyes fly open and send him a piercing glare.

"There!" He bats her hand away, sans splinter, and it falls heavily to the deck. She lifts it to her face to examine the damage.

"No blood. Ye survived. And ye still have yer hand."

With the pain gone and her limb still in tact, she smiles meekly at him. "Thank you."

Reaching for her shoulder, Jones uses her body for support to lift his ancient frame from the deck. "Now if ye will excuse me, I have more pressing issues to address."

"Such as?" She follows suit, taking her place next to him at the helm.

"Breathing. Blinking. And anything else that has absolutely nothing to do with your belly-aching!" He notices a slight shift in the wind and orders a change in the rigging.

"Not going to work, Jones. You love me."

The Captain sighs heavily. "Please don't make me regret telling ye." His eyes catch her fingers wandering up to her neck to play with the cerulean amulet that sits there. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks again. "Tell me something, would ye have done it?"

"Done what?"

Jones clears his throat. "Would ye have jumped?"

She looks up from the amulet, it's dazzling reflection of the sunlight leaving spots in her vision. "I wanted to."

"Life with me is that unbearable?"

"Not everything is about you, Jones."

He snorts at her offhand comment. "Then why?"

"You have to understand where I was at the time. You didn't love me and I had no promise of it ever occurring. I felt that the only love I would ever receive would be from our child and I had just lost that. I felt lost, hopeless and alone." She returns to playing with the amulet. "More so than usual."

"So it was about me."

"Oh, Jones you are absolutely hopeless!" She throws her hands in the air and walks away.

"No need for insults. After all, I just saved your life, splinter girl. Yet again."

In his sarcasm, she can sense his hurt. Turning back, she wraps her arms around his waist. "I apologize. That was thoughtless of me to say so. But you of all people should know how it feels to be lost in complete and utter despair. Surely, you can understand my plight. But now that I know that my love for you is reciprocated, I feel like I have a reason for being again. Someone loves me. Someone needs me. I don't have much else in this world. And you must admit that your life has improved since you told me. Aren't you happier?"

"No. I'm absolutely fucking miserable."

Lil's head tilts to the side. "You are fortunate, sir, that I can withstand the brutality of your humor."

His eyes gleam with mischievousness before a smile creeps into formation. "Ye make my existence more bearable, how's that?"

"It will have to do."

"Good, then. Because that's about all ye will get. Now that that has been settled, there still lies the question of the abilities of that bobble around your neck."

"My amulet? It extends my life."

"Yes, but there is more to it. As you may recall, the scripture stated that only the phoenix can fill the heart's desires."

Liliana pauses to contemplate the words. Suddenly, she realizes what she had truly hoped for that night. "It has done that."

"Aye, ye are immortal so long as it stays on your body."

"No." She catches his gaze. "The night we found it, you asked me what I wanted most in this world."

"Aye. I figured if I made ye think of what ye wanted most, maybe it would respond. And it did."

She leans in to her lover, looking up to him with longing eyes. "Davy, my answer was _you_."

Turning to gaze down upon her, his face softens with the realization. "I am what ye wanted most?"

She smiles softly. "And that is why you love me now in return. The amulet. It has erased all the damage, all the hurt. It made you capable of loving again. You may not be free in body, but at least you are in soul. And that is all I have ever wanted for you."

Discarding propriety, he takes her into his arms in front of his condemning world. Centuries of agony and misery seem to melt away with each second that goes by.

"I take it back, ye are the best thing that has ever happened to me."


	33. Chapter 33

"What did I just say?"

Liliana wipes a tear from her eye that had formed during hysterical laughter. She looks over to Hadras who is smiling while shaking his head.

"You just told me you are a hippopotamus."

"Oh, well that certainly isn't right." She giggles and returns to splicing the two ropes laying heavily in her lap.

"Ye keep making that fish chowder of yers and it will be right." Koleniko snickers as he tosses the last remnants of burnt tobacco from a pipe he found during their last harvest.

"Are you suggesting that my girth is expanding, dear brother?"

Niko catches the look of discontent on her face and smiles to know that he is the cause of it. "Nay, not at all."

"Hmm, I thought so. So Hadras, I want to learn more of your language, it is absolutely fascinating. Anything that I can learn that will confuse and aggravate the Captain, the more exciting my life will be."

The deckhand reaches over to inspect her splicing. Never one to compliment on a job well done, he instead removes it from her lap and replaces it with another. He is a man of great patience and has always tolerated Liliana's presence when most would prefer to send her overboard. "Alright. Let's try something easier. Say, 'nei ho ma'."

Liliana repeats. "And that means?"

"'How are you', is what it means." Hadras states matter-of-factly.

"That's no fun." Liliana pouts. "You said you were going to teach me vulgarity."

"And have you go off and repeat it to the Captain." He scoffs.

"Yes, that is the hilarious part, Hadras my dear." Liliana winks. "He won't know what I'm saying."

"No. But if he found out I was teaching you filth I'd be missing my head." He knocks on the hard shell covering.

Niko interjects, "teach her something filthy. She can say it to him in the sack."

Liliana glares at him with disgust. "That's enough out of you. Tell me what to say so I can insult him in Cantonese."

Hadras instantly finds delight in this quarrel he has been forced into joining."Puk gai."

Liliana shouts it at Niko and then turns for translation. "What did I say?"

Hadras laughs to himself, not looking up from the ropes he splices. "You just told him to go die in the streets."

"Oh my!" Liliana giggles.

"Two can play this game." Niko nods to his crewmate.

"Tong nei hoi neen. It means 'I'm going to beat your ass.'"

Liliana falls over laughing. After a few moments pass and she catches her breath, she straightens to compose herself. "I cannot remember when I've laughed this hard. But then again, I don't remember much before this ship. You are a wondrous source of entertainment, Hadras."

"Dòh jê. Thank you." He laughs. "Tell him 'lei lo ma'."

Liliana does as instructed.

Feigning seriousness, Hadras raises a brow and addresses Koleniko. "She just told you to shove it up your ass. You will stand for that?"

Niko leans in to receive his next insult lesson in Cantonese . He stands tall and grins wickedly down at his younger sibling. "Say bat por."

Lil ignores her bestower of filth and goes directly to the source. Hadras looks back to his work with a smirk. "Crazy bitch."

"That one is no good, he says that to me in English every day!"

The three find themselves lost in laughter, not noticing Jones approach from behind. "What is this merriment?"

The two men jump with fright and move out of arms reach. This is Jones' first clue they are up to no good. He sends a critical glare down to the girl still seated at his feet.

"I'm just learning some Cantonese, Captain."

"Really?" Jones folds his arms across the broad expanse of his chest. "Say something."

Liliana's eyes dart over to her tutor for help. When she finds none, she looks up to Jones with flushed cheeks.

"How astonishing! Ye have spent nearly a bell over in this corner and ye've not learned a single word?"

"It's not an easy..."

"Nay, ye have spent the time learning vulgarity and smut!" Jones growls. He turns to glare at Hadras. "Djayng yun cheut hau, bun yun cheut sau."

Liliana's jaw drops. She watches as Hadras slinks away before she feels his gaze fall upon her again. "You speak Cantonese?"

"I speak the language of all sailors. How else can I recruit?"

"What did you say to him?"

"Smart people put forth mouth, dumb people put forth hand. In other words, his dumb ass needs to get back to work because I said so!"

Her stomach turns with the realization. "So you heard and understood everything we said?"

"Aye. Quite the little mouth ye have on ye, miss."

In times like this, the best defense against Jones is the pout. "Well, I am sorry, Captain. But I am disenchanted!"

"Oh, so ye are saying ye do not have enough work to do? Well, there is always the next meal to prepare. Ye still have ropes to splice. Perhaps I shall have ye polish the cannons and tar the deck! And while we're at it, I'll careen the ship and let ye scrape every barnacle off the ass of this ship! Honestly, I never thought ye to be quite such an abbey lubber, but here we are. Disenchanted? I will show ye disenchanted, woman!"

Her defense backfired. Time for another tactic. "Or..." She bats her eyelashes flirtatiously, "you could always teach me some naughty language in Gaelic."

Jones snorts with a toss of his head. His beard sways back and forth before settling in its former place upon his chest. He looks down at her before continuing, "pòg mo thòin. Kiss my ass."

Through the streams of light beaming down upon him from the masts above, Liliana can see that he is pleased with himself. She cannot, however, tell if it is pleasure from insulting her or from her sudden interest in his native language. Either way, she is free from his rage. For now.

"I'll have to remember that one." She wipes her brow before reaching for the small gulley by her side. She has sliced open her fingers many times while cutting ropes, so she is careful to mind the sharp edge of the blade. All the while, she minding the sharpness of the Captain's tongue. Suddenly, she is feeling disenfranchised for having her fun spoiled, and he should know this. "You know Captain, you are very hard on me."

Jones leans over the rail of his ship slightly, enjoying the cool breeze as it dances along his face. "Pray tell, love. Why is that?"

"Well, one minute you act as if you are enthralled with me. The next I am but a flea in your bed, as you have often referred to me in past." She pulls hard and the frayed ends are separated from the rope. "I thought that maybe once your love was declared that things would change."

"How many times must we have this conversation?" A helpless groan escapes Jones.

"Until I get an answer that satisfies me, sir." A quick smirk forms on her lips but quickly disappears.

"I saw that."

"Saw what?"

"That little grin. Ye are just trying to bullyrag me now. And I am not game, madame." He walks over and takes a seat on the first reinforce of a nearby cannon. "Ye are lucky to be loved at all, for the fact that it exists is a mystery to me. It should not be possible as I have no heart. But if that amulet ye wear has anything to do with it, then that is the most likely reason why. So do not push your luck!"

Liliana's stomach sinks. "So are you saying that if I take it off, you will stop loving me?"

"How should I know, love?" Jones snorts a sarcastic laugh. "I'm as blind in this as ye."

Her fingers reach up to clasp the jewel around her neck. What a disturbing thought to discover that his love may be forcibly induced and not inwardly developed. She sighs heavily. "You know I would do anything to change your past, Davy. You know I would. It hurts me to no end that you were violated so. It hurts me even more to know that you will forever be hers and not mine."

Jones' brow furrows into a frown. "Well, your mood has taken a sudden hard to starboard."

She laughs helplessly. "Well, I am sorry." She straightens her back in an attempt to compose herself. "But I do not want you to suffer. And I feel the need to be selfish in claiming you as my own."

Jones looks around his ship and chuckles to himself. "My love, ye are surrounded by suffering. Ye have been now for over a year." He walks over and crouches next to her. "Every one of these souls suffer. Ye suffer. I suffer. That is how this works. That, my dear, is life."

"Funny, but that is not what I envisioned the afterlife being."

The Captain's head tilts back with laughter. "Because ye are only focusing on what mortals taught ye. Be a good lass, and ye will make it..." he points to the sky above, "up there. Ye were taught there is a heaven and a hell, but I can tell ye that the lines blur quickly."

"Purgatory."

"What?"

Liliana returns to splicing. "You left out purgatory. Which is where I assume I am."

"And there in lies another clue as to your identity. Ye were Catholic." Jones snarls, not content with this sudden discovery. He has been trying his hardest to keep these triggers from coming. And now a simple conversation brings it on?

She looks up in amazement. A slow, slanted smile forms.

Quickly wanting to change the subject, he continues. "Ye see there? The bosun was a family man, only went to sea to make money to feed his family. Got caught in a gale and met up with me some three hundred years ago." Jones' pointed fingers move from the bosun over to his bodyguard. "Palifico was an African slave who died during the middle passage. Sold for cowrie shells! Can ye imagine the suffering there?" His' cold fingers move to the next crewman. "Ye know the coxswain's story as it is your own, Bootstrap was thrown overboard, and the first mate worked for the EITC." Jones laughs sardonically. "That mate caused lots of suffering himself and reaped the benefits in his mortal life. Now he pays the price next to me. Good and bad will suffer, love. That is life and death."

Liliana places her hand on his knee. "I get the notion. We are all miserable people."

His hand reaches down to cup her chin. He finds himself wanting to end this pain inside her. She struggles with the reality of her life along with the realization that the act of cutting out his own heart has forever bound him to his former lover."I was miserable until ye came along. Lily, it doesn't matter what brings it on, what matters is that I feel love for ye now." He stands and offers his hand. "Come with me, I have something for ye."

He leads her across the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_. Past the disadvantaged and lost souls and into the darkness below. He opens the door to his quarters and allows her to enter first.

She stands in the dimly lit room with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Small rays of light pierce through the filthy windows. She watches as it momentarily captures the moisture that is moving heavily through the air. Her attention is drawn to Jones as he fumbles through the darkness enveloping his desk. Finally he straightens and returns to her side. When his eyes meet hers, they are soft and pleading.

"Ye said that I will never be yours and ye will never be mine. But I feel my actions so many years ago do not cut me off from ye completely." He reaches forth with a small velvet pouch. "I found this many, many decades ago during a harvest. I'm not sure why I saved it, perhaps maybe for it's worth. I know ye cannot wear it out on deck, as it could be lost or damaged, but it is more important in what it symbolizes."

Liliana's eyes squint in the darkness and then suddenly widen when they focus in on a gold ring with a single large diamond. "It's beautiful."

"It's yours, if ye will have it. If ye will have me." He pauses when he catches the shock of her expression. "I promise to always be there for ye, if ye shall do the same." He slides the ring onto her finger and is pleasantly surprised that it fits.

Still in shock, her eyes examine the ring and then back to his face. All she finds is the same smooth softness dancing in his cerulean eyes.

When she does not respond, he continues softly. "I do not deserve ye after the way I've been, but this is the only way I can convince ye that ye can be mine." He pauses, "and I can be yours. I may not be able to give ye my heart, but I can give ye my soul and all that I am. Liliana Snow, will ye marry me?"

She is forced to catch her breath. She cannot find the words but merely nods her response. His protective arms envelope her tiny frame, his lips meet with hers. She melts into his embrace. No longer alone in this world, she now has her soul mate. Her husband.

* * *

><p>*<span>Author's note<span>: I apologize if there is some Mandarin in there with the Cantonese in the first half of this chapter. Some of the websites I used for research had a mixture of the two. Also, despite what legend (and PotC) says, captains of ships could not legally marry people unless they were ordained or licensed to do so. _Guess what that means for Will and Liz?_ So this means that Jones and Liliana are not legally married, but rather choose to appreciate the symbolism of the act.


	34. Chapter 34

_Author's Note: For those of you who are still familiar with the first version of EotB, this is where the story will take a dramatic turn for you. The ending of the new version will be nothing like the first. I am removing Cutler Beckett and Mercer from the story completely. The story will no longer be considered Alternate Universe (AU), but rather a side story that takes place __before__ "Dead Man's Chest". To fill in any gaps, this story takes place __before__ Jones makes the deal with Sparrow. Calypso has not yet been captured to her human form._

I apologize for the lack of updates, but this ending is such a dramatic twist from the first that I must do all my research and plan this properly. I am trying to keep with mythology as well as keeping it canon to the trilogy (not an easy feat!).

From here on, the chapters will be newly written or excerpts from my other Jones fanfic "Rain Must Fall".

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><p><strong>Eye of the Beholder: Of Sand and Sea. Part two.<strong>

Three years later

Something catches her attention. A familiar cold chill travels up her body. From the darkness that harbors it, a shadowed form flows into the dim candlelight next to her on the table. She smiles to herself, knowing that he has been watching her all this time. She is never truly alone on his ship.

"Care to make a wager?" His ghostly blue eyes slowly lift from the neatly placed cards he holds in his hand to gaze upon her with pronounced interest. He wants her, but first he must beguile himself with his usual taunting.

"This is how you plan on celebrating our third anniversary? Playing cards?" She sends him a crooked smile. Running her hands through her auburn hair, she takes a seat in front of him, all the while soaking in the intensity of his gaze.

He is amused. "A game of chance perhaps."

Her interest is peaked. "I'll bite."

Jones snickers. "Please wait for later. " He removes a card from the middle of the deck with the precision of one of his tentacles. "Ye have to guess whether it is higher or lower than five."

"Or what?" She leans in slowly, giving him bedroom eyes.

"If ye miscalculate your estimate, ye must remove an article of clothing."

"How improper." She feigns disgust, without hiding her intrigue. "And what about you, kind sir?"

"What about me?" His head tilts to the side.

"It's not fair for the lady to undress by herself." Liliana reaches over to inspect the cards to make sure they aren't fixed. "You must also remove an article of clothing if I guess correctly."

Still bathed in shadows, a smile slowly creeps across his weathered face. "Not a worry. Ye will still be undressed before I."

"And how do you suppose?"

He laughs aloud before leaning further into the candlelight. "I have more articles on than ye!" He proudly tips his hat.

"Which is unfair." Liliana pouts playfully.

"Such is life. Ye had better play a good game." He says with a wink. He holds up the card in front of them, the face turned towards him. His ethereal eyes shift over to examine her face, waiting for her move.

"Wait. What if it is a five?"

"Then ye better hope ye guess correctly."

"That is not fair! I say we discard the fives from the deck."

"As I said prior, life is not fair." He snorts as he finds himself perturbed by her stalling. "This is a game of chance. Ye change the odds if ye remove the fives."

"Yes. I change the odds in my favor." She taps the table with her index finger.

Annoyed, he flicks the card with a finger to suggest it is time for her to guess. Unwilling to change his own odds, he gives his usual 'hurry up' look. "The fives stay."

Unable to hold her smile back, she rests her chin in her hand to gaze at him with suspicion. "Now I see why you always win card games. You are cheating."

He flicks the card again. "Heaven forfend Liliana Jones did not get her way! Heaven forbid she had to follow **my** rules."

"Higher." She announces her guess sharply.

Without blinking or looking away from her gaze, he flips it around and exposes a two. "Ye had better lose something fast."

Without breaking the stare, she kicks off a shoe and throws it across the room. Disappointed, his head follows the direction it flies and stares at it once it lands. His head snaps back and he glares at her for her choice. "Couldn't ye do better than that? Honestly, a shoe?"

She leans in with a wicked smile and whispers. "Life is so unfair." She reaches for a card, examines it and holds it up for him to guess.

"I am upping the odds. If I guess wrong, ye still have to remove an article of clothing!"

"Why don't I just strip naked right now?" She groans.

He leans back and gleams. "Very well then."

"Guess the damn card." She flicks the card with her finger in the same manner as her lover did before.

"Lower." He says, still with the smug expression.

She turns it around to show him a nine. "Lose something."

He reaches down and unsheathes his sword and places it on the table. "There. I lost something."

"That is not clothing!"

"I was wearing it! And now I am not." He chuckles as he reaches for another card. "Hurry up and guess so we can get where we need to be."

"You keep this up, and I will strip you down naked and you will be thrown out on deck."

"I think the crew has suffered enough." He snickers before shouting. "Guess!"

"You can cuddle with the crew tonight..."

"Guess the bloody card! Honestly, I don't know why I bother, ye annoy me to hell..."

"Five!" Liliana shouts.

His smile disappears as his eyes dart back and forth between the card and Liliana. A moment of hesitation. "Wrong."

"Liar!" She accuses and reaches for the card. "You may commence stripping, my dear!" She proclaims proudly upon realizing she somehow guessed correctly.

Jones grabs his hat and tosses it to the floor. It lands with a loud 'thunk' that echoes throughout the spacious room. He is enjoying every minute of this torment.

"You are a horrible tease."

"Ye enjoy it as much as I. Or else ye wouldn't still be here." A knock at the door and a muffled voice announces the ship's arrival. Jones sends an aggravated glare in his lover's direction. "Look what your equivocation did!

Liliana reaches forward and begins shuffling the cards. She looks up from them with heavy eyelids. "Better luck next time, Captain?"

"Does me no good." His mood spirals south as he replaces his hat on his head. "Ye'll be gone all day."

* * *

><p>Jones followed her out on deck, all the while chastising her for having the audacity to belie his endeavors. She rolled her eyes before climbing over the railing to descend down a rope ladder towards the waiting long boat. Jones' violently fluctuating moods are nothing new to her now. Even if she had given in to his request, she would eventually have to deal with his temper. The galley, being completely out of meaningful rations, would lead to him having no supper.<p>

As the small boat carries her through the rough waves towards the beach, she watches as he loses interest and storms away. _Strange_, she thinks to herself. He normally waits for her feet to touch the shore before carrying on with his duties. He must be in a fouler mood than she thought.

No worries. By collecting fresh fruit and other provisions, she can create a satisfying meal that will placate him easily. She leaps over the side of the long boat into the chest-high water. The crewman who rowed her to shore hands her the end of a rope before tossing out the heavy hogshead barrel it is tied to. The drinking water aboard the _Dutchman_ has become addle and full of algae over the last few months at sea. The barrel floats easily through the waves, but will become a burden once it hits the sand. She will have to roll it to the fresh water supply farther inland. Not an easy thing to accomplish when the barrel is bigger than she is.

With sweat forming on her brow and splinters from the barrel becoming painfully lodged into her fingers, she struggles to push her way through the hot sand. This island, which was once a gift from Jones, has now become a curse. She must collect the fresh water here. She must gather the fruit and uproot the stubborn tubers that will sustain them. Then she drags it all back to the ship without help.

At first, she was allowed to spend hours on shore, bathing in the cool springs and absorbing what was once her life on land. Liliana would sit and listen to the birds as they fluttered overhead. They would bring her such comfort. Their territorial songs would invigorate her enough to help her survive another day on board. Gradually, Jones put a stop to it, claiming there was no time for her to "take a caulk". He feared her becoming lazy.

She wipes her brow with the back of her hand, only to smear dirt and sand across it. Pausing to catch her breath, she is overcome by the complete silence that surrounds her. The cacophony of trills and shrieks from the native wildlife is nonexistent. Never has she been greeted by reticence before. The only sound comes from the gentle breeze that flows through the palms overhead.

A chill crawls up her back. It is familiar, yet somehow foreign. She is nowhere near water, it cannot be Jones trying to rabble rouse her. A shadow moves and she catches it out of the corner of her eye. She turns. No one is there. She squints to examine the dappling light flowing through the thick vegetation of the forest. Liliana's hand instinctively reaches for the small gulley hidden under her vest. It is only good for freeing fruit from trees, but it may buy her some time if needed.

She jumps at what feels like fingers tracing over her cheek. Pulling the gulley free from its hiding place, she brandishes it for the world to see. "Who is there? Show yourself!"

She turns again at the sound of a small child's laughter coming from behind. The sound of another child floats in from the direction she once faced.

"Show yourself!"

Movement in the palms above catches her attention, before another shadow quickly rustles through the thick leaves around her.

Unable to hide her fear, her voice shakes. "I command you to identify yourself. Now!"

A cool breeze flows over her body as an ethereal voice whispers in her ear. "_You have something that belongs to me_."

The hairs on the back of her neck rise as the breeze travels down her body. "Who is there?"

Again the voice calls, "_You have something that belongs to me_."

"Who are you?" Liliana hollers. Her eyes frantically search the forest around her. It seems to be closing in on her with every breath.

"_I am everything_."

Grasping the knife firmly between both hands, she plants her feet firmly into the sand. "Show yourself! Now!"

"_I want what is mine_." The voice moans.

"I have nothing of yours. Go away!"

"_I will claim what is mine_." The voice calls from the trees. The black shadow morphs into a haze and then quickly floats away on the ocean breeze.

The presence leaves her there, shaking. Minutes feel like hours as her heart races uncontrollably. What does it want? She has no earthly possessions. She looks down to her rapidly expanding and collapsing chest. The amulet.

Abandoning the barrel, she races toward the beach. Upon reaching the crashing waves, she hollers his name repeatedly until her throat is raw.

In the waves before her, a shadow forms. He rises from the cerulean waters, emancipating his body from the depths below. His expression is one of acrimony for having been so hastily called from his ship. When she throws herself onto his body, he is shocked to find her sobbing.

"What on earth is the matter with ye?" He vainly attempts to pry her away. "It's as if ye have seen a ghost."

She looks up at him, her eyes pleading for safety. "I have."


	35. Chapter 35

"Are you sure the amulet didn't belong to someone?" Liliana asks yet again while frantically pacing around the cabin.

Jones sits, watching her travel. When she is like this, it is best to let her roam freely. "I'm positive Lily. It was lost treasure but…"

"Well, that means someone owned it once. If it was 'lost', then it must have been in someone's possession. And now they want it back."

"After being lost at sea for centuries? Seems unlikely." He says as he lights his pipe. Smoke billows out of his mouth as he continues."Why after all this time would the trinket be of value?"

Liliana's head races for an explanation. "Maybe it wasn't lost. Perhaps it was hidden! Very well hidden, so that no one could locate it. And now this..._thing_...is mad because we found it and I'm wearing it. This could be a threat to my very life. After all, if I take it off, will I not perish?" She cups her hands over her face and takes a deep, cleansing breath. "The shadow said I have something that belongs to it. What else could it be but the amulet? I have nothing else, well, other than you." She smiles weakly.

Jones' face goes blank. His drawn expression stops her from pacing. "Davy? Are you alright? Now you are the one who appears to have seen an apparition."

He shakes his head and blinks a few times. "It's nothing, Lily. Why don't ye prepare for bed and I will join ye shortly."

"Very well." Liliana watches as he stands and heads for the door. It seems highly unusual for him to go back out on deck after deciding to retire for the night. She swallows the unease and smiles at him. "Where are you going, my love?"

Jones does not turn to face her. "Don't fret. I have merely forgotten to give final orders to the crew." He turns his head slightly in her direction without looking at her, knowing that his words are lies. "I'll be in shortly."

* * *

><p>He steps lightly as he travels across the deck, being sure not to disturb anyone or anything nearby. Stopping at the port bow, he turns around and surveys his surroundings. No one in sight but the navigator. He instructs the ancient mariner to go below deck. The seaweed entangled crewman does as commanded without questioning his superior's strange request. Jones scans the darkness of the ship once more. Everything seems to be where it should be. A cold tingle creeps up his torso and penetrates the gnarled skin covering where his heart once pulsed. A shiver runs through his body, knowing the source of the discomfort is nearby.<p>

A flicker of light catches his attention. Being close to land, he disregards it as a wayward firefly. But soon his eyes become fixed on it as it dances in the darkness. It seems to be getting closer, but he quickly realizes that the orb is actually growing in size.

Jones looks away, hatred building inside his body. "Ye are late."

The light flickers and then disappears. The lantern next to him blows out without the aid of the slightest breeze. The cold chill now crawls up his back. He shifts to make it stop. The dancing light appears again, this time directly in front of him, demanding his attention. Fragments of the radiance begin showering down to the deck. It pools at his feet before sizzling away. Smoke begins to float up from the waterlogged deck and a human form becomes visible in the darkness. Before him stands the reason for his agony, the woman who abandoned him so many centuries ago. Calypso.

"Ye have no business on my ship!" Jones snarls at her fiercely. "How dare ye waltz in here after all these years?"

"You would not have dis ship without me." She casually walks toward him but stops when he backs away angrily.

"I would not be this monster if it wasn't for ye!" He bellows.

Calypso smiles coyly."Dat was your own doing. You abandoned your duties. You are da cause of all your troubles."

He blasts forward, causing the goddess to step back and out of his way. "If ye had done what ye promised to do, I would not have deviated from my duties! Did ye think that I would be acquiescent after ten years of waiting for ye? Did ye think that I would be complacent with ye not arriving?" He spins around and glares directly at her still smiling face.

She raises a hand and waves it dismissively. "You knew of my ways before I promised you anything."

"And yet, ye still promised! Ye are too selfish to consider anyone but yourself!"

Her smile fades into a sinister frown. "You are da one who is selfish! Wanting to control da seas dat I own!"

He closes his eyes tightly, desperately holding his tongue. The last thing he wants is to wake the crew, to wake Liliana. It would only put her in danger. "Why are ye here?"

"Dat girl."

Jones' eyes fly open.

"Dat girl is in limbo. Ye keep her alive when she needs to be dead. Dat is against our rules, upon what we agreed. Either press gang her or be off wit' her."

Jones straightens his back and looks past her. "I have found a way to keep her without breaking any rules."

Calypso's eyes darken. "And why would you be needin' her?"

He is caught, but fabricates anyway. "She is necessary here. She provides meals and does light duties. It frees up the crew for more important tasks."

Calypso leans in, her eyes narrowing as she examines him closely."Den ye press gang her. No need for da amulet. If she means no more dan dat, make her part of your crew."

Jones explodes. "What does it matter to ye?"

The goddess comes back with equal force. "Because I know da truth, Jones. Ye are in love with dat girl. Ye are not allowed to have her. Also part of our agreement!"

"I do not love her, as you may recall, I cannot." Jones' fist clenches into a tight ball. Violent flashbacks flood his mind of the night he tore his own beating heart from his chest. "And that agreement is null and void. Ye did not keep your end of the bargain."

"You are still on dis ship, which I gave you, so it still stands. As long as you are on dis ship, you must obey da rules. Da girl must die."

Jones snarls. "I will protect her with my own life."

Calypso blinks before allowing a wicked grin to form upon her lips. "An awful lot of devotion to a girl who is just providing mere duties, Jones. Tell me, what duties are those again? In da bedroom, no doubt!" She laughs heartily.

Jones reaches out to strike her, but the goddess evaporates into a cloud of mist before he makes contact. "Calypso!"

Her voice creeps in from behind. "I am da key to your salvation. You may want to be more polite."

"Ye leave her be!" Jones spins and points a finger in her face. "Ye will not touch the girl!"

She raises her hand to stop his tirade. "I cannot harm da girl. Only you can end her life. I gave you dat power, after all. I will not touch her. But I will retrieve what is rightfully mine. As long as you are on dis ship, Captain Jones, you will belong to me." She starts a slow walk around him, examining him closely while running her fingers along his weathered coat. As her fingertips travel, the surrounding sea life that has been attached to him for centuries withers and fall off. She leans in close to his lips and whispers, "I am da key to your salvation." Gently, she places her lips upon his.

Jones pulls away in disgust. "I will never end her life."

Her eyes are morbid, but her tone is sweet. "Den you will suffer, Jones. I will see to dat. You are my love, and my love only. I will not share!" She laughs as she walks away into the shadows. "If you think you are hurting now..."

Jones blinks momentarily and finds that the goddess is gone. He looks toward the direction of his cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest. Nothing will harm Liliana. He will see to it.


End file.
